Foundations
by Lovesy
Summary: Chryed story originally inspired by pre-proposal argument spoilers, but heading in a different direction. Multi-chap fic that will rock the foundations of the Masood family.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my second Chryed story! This chapter was inspired by the latest spoilers of Chryed arguing over their families around the time of the proposal, but I've changed the situation. Sorry it ends on such an angsty moment, it will get better! I have got a plan of where this story is going to end up but I don't know how or how long it's going to take to get there yet, but I'm sure they'll be another couple of chapters at least! Bring on the angst!**

**Characters belong to Eastenders, no copyright infringement intended.**

**ETA Since being originally published, this fic has been changed from first person perspective to second person, to fit in with my current story plan, hope it doesn't confuse anybody!**

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><p>Christian came bursting through the door and stopped in his tracks when he saw Syed.<p>

For a split second Syed's heart leapt into his throat and he nearly ran to him. But he didn't. He turned his back on him. Tears stung his eyes as he did so, he could feel the anger well up inside him again, a desperate kind of anger at himself, at Christian, at the impassability of the situation.

Christian threw his keys down onto the table, with a resounding crash . As he moved about the flat Syed could sense the tension in his body, his movements were sharp and rigid, his jaw locked.

Syed kept his head down, a dull ache across his forehead, a physical feeling that seemed to echo the pain of his thoughts. He didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see into his eyes, to feel the connection pulling him in. He didn't want to break.

Syed was aware of Christian giving him quick furtive glances out of the corner of his eye. But Syed wouldn't look up, his body tensing and refusing to move, stiff and unyielding like a shield of armour protecting his weakness inside. Christian just didn't get it, didn't get _him_, this man that he loved so much, why couldn't he understand? Syed felt the battle building within him, the conflict of emotions, the tumultuous currents of his thoughts and feelings threatening to drown him. Was this really a shield he had built around himself or was it a cage? "Please don't shut me out." Christian had said. Because of course he did understand him, he understood him only too well. It was _them_ he couldn't understand.

It had been 3 days. 3 days of barely looking at each other. 3 days since Syed had felt his skin against his. 3 days since they'd first started this blasted argument, Christian and him. Or this version of it. They were back to that again. It was always there, it had been there at the beginning, before the beginning even, and it looked like it wasn't going away anytime soon. Family. His family. The words that should be associated with love, support, nurturing, a safe haven from all the ills of the world. It used to be like that, before he became a man, but now he saw that even then it was an illusion. A façade portrayed to the outside world of unity, respectability and affection. Even within the circle of his family they wore the masks of the parts they were expected to play. Hardly daring to step out of the confines of the fabrications that held their family together.

His Father, the head of the family, respected and well-liked. With his steadfast sense of morality and devotion to his God, his wife, his family. Syed's blood ran cold, a coldness that seemed to seep through him, through the veins of his childhood and into his flesh. The words his father had spoken to him cutting through him like ice, "That boy has disappointed me for the last time", "That perversion is not my son." He was such a proud man, Syed only wished he could have been proud of him. But his persona of perfection was flawed, it wasn't real. He was just a man after all, and not always a good one, far from it.

His Mother, the very thought of her now was like a fist clenching and tightening around his heart. She had told him she never stopped loving him. But did she love the real Syed or just the person she wished him to be, the vision of him that she saw behind her own eyes? He remembered her gentle smile and warm touch, soothing his worries as a child, the disappointment in her eyes when he'd do something bad or say the wrong thing. "It's better that you were dead." Syed felt himyself tremble at the memory and push it out of his mind, he could see her reaching out to him at the hospital after the roof collapse, remember the sad and worried look in her eyes, her hands on his face, the tears she cried.

It couldn't have lasted of course, Syed knew. The glass house they had built, laying the foundations with lies and deceit, it was bound to fall. His Mother had been married before, she followed her heart and she got burned, literally. The horror she went through must have left more than physical scars, scars that rooted themselves deep in her heart. They had constructed a new life around themselves and they, their children had come along and become embroiled in their fantasy, tools to erase the past and share the burden of blame and responsibility in the future. He was back now, her first husband, wheedling his way back into her life, all their lives. Why? Syed thought, Why now? He was there at the beginning, will he be there at the end?

He turned sideways, aware of Christian's building frustration. He was huffing and puffing now, pulling clothes out of his gym bag and throwing them into the laundry bag. Syed moved quietly into the kitchen, the silence and distance between them like a weight pressing down, so unfamiliar it brought with it it's own sense of fear. Syed had the sudden urge to touch him, to feel his skin against his own, his mouth on his mouth, but he was trapped within myself, refusing to let go, to give in. He was angry, and scared… so scared, and he didn't even know of what.

He knew Christian was cracking, he could never contain his feelings like he could, but mostly because he didn't want to. Sometimes it hurt, but it was always honest.

"For God's sake Sy, how long are we gonna keep this up?" Christian spat, and turned on him. "Look what they're doing to us? What you're letting them do to us! After everything we've been through how can you let them do it again?"

"Me?" Syed shouted, finally looking at him. He saw him, the man before him, the man he loved and he let rip, the anger rushing out of him, because it could. This man who he trusted more than anyone else in the world, who knew him better than anyone, his inner turmoil came pouring out, laying itself bare before Christian, because somehow, in all the mess, there was no safer place for it to be.

"You're the one who won't accept the situation, who takes every opportunity to tell me how bad it's going to end, who keeps telling me to let it go! You're the one coming between us Christian, not them!"

Christian moved towards him, crossing the small flat in just a few long strides, until he was towering over him. His green eyes boring into Syed's, flashing with fury and frustration.

"All I've ever tried to do is the right thing by you! To protect you, because I care! How can you ignore what they've done? What they keep doing? You're letting them back in Sy, letting the poison back in and it's doing it's job! Have some self-respect, for fuck's sake!"

His words stung him, "That's not fair! You know it's different this time, I'm doing this on my terms Christian! I'm not the man I was, I know perfectly well what they've done, what they're capable of! I'm under no illusions here Christian, but they are still my parents. I'm not a robot, I can't just turn my feelings off. I want to go to my grave, knowing that at least I did the right thing in all of this. You of all people should know that you can't change who you are, and I'm part of them Christian, and whether you like it or not they are a part of me!" he glowered at him, anger seething through him, Christian was standing so close now, he could feel his breath on his face, almost feel the heat radiating from him, if Syed just reached out he could touch him.

He shook his head "And what about me? What about me Sy?" There was a desperation, a sadness in his voice now. "What have I got? What about my family? Jane's gone… she couldn't even bring herself to say goodbye! Who have I got to talk to about this when you're pushing me away, making me feel like an outsider, not telling me what's going on? It may be different for you this time Sy, but it all feels horribly familiar to me!"

There, he'd said it, Christian thought. He was scared. Scared of the familiarity of the feelings he was experiencing. Haunting him from the days of desperation and heart-break when he would have given anything, everything, to have Syed here with him, properly with him, day and night, heart, body, and soul, like he was today. He felt defensive, needing to protect his vulnerabilty inside, and with that came an anger, an anger at the situation and at the people who had caused so much hurt to the one he loved, and to him, hurting what they had, turning it into something sordid, sometimes turning them against each other.

Syed stared at him, the anger and frustration at the situation they were in bristling within him, the horrible impasse that they had reached regarding contact with his family felt like a lead weight rooting him to the spot. But his heart ached at the lost look in Christian's eyes, the fear, the uncertainty.

Christian's eyes narrowed, and he bent his head lower to Syed's, his voice low and venomous. "There's something sick and twisted, and very, very wrong in those small little minds of theirs" he jabbed a finger at the side of his head to emphasise what he was saying. "I don't know what it is, what happened to make them this way, but I'm telling you Sy, they are _never _gonna change, they are _never_ going to accept that you are gay and they are _never going to accept us!" _


	2. Chapter 2

**Er… Oh dear. Well… ahem, here is chapter 2. Let's just say I've taken a one way ticket to Smutville. I've never been before, but it didn't take very long to get there. It's quite explicit, just so you know. **

**A less, er…. frenzied chapter to follow…**

**All characters belong to Eastenders (thank goodness), no copyright infringement intended.**

**You can leave a review if you wish, I'll just go and hide for a while….**

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><p><strong>Carries straight on from Chapter 1.<strong>

Syed glared at Christian, brow furrowed, jaw clenched, his eyes dark and brimming with anger.

Christian glared back at him, daring him to say something, do something. Emotions ran wild through his veins, anger, frustration, uncertainty… He wished Syed would just say what he felt. There was something he was obviously trying to contain but was threatening to spill out as his lips parted slightly and his eyes darted dangerously back and forth. Despite his anger, or maybe fuelled by it, Christian felt a stirring in his groin, damn it, why did he have to be so sexy when he was angry? Damn him.

Unable to stand the tension Syed broke eye contact and turned towards the kitchen counter, and with a quick, sharp movement, he furiously smashed his arm into a china mug that was sitting on the side. It flew across the room and crashed onto the kitchen floor, shattering into several large pieces.

The noise startled Christian, plus the fact that he'd actually done it. Yeah they'd had a few tussles in our time, but Syed was such a non violent person. He looked at him in surprise and his eyes met Christian's once more, they were burning with a fierce intensity. Christian took a sharp intake of breath as suddenly Syed lunged towards him.

For a split second Christian thought Syed was going to hit him, then he felt his lips smack into his and Christian's breath caught in his throat. Syed's tongue forced itself into his mouth and he kissed him with such ferocity that Christian actually stumbled backwards. He grabbed Syed's arms with his hands to steady himself, and could do nothing but return his crushing kiss with equal vigour. All the pent up frustration and tension of the last few days, the lack of physical contact, not being able to touch him, smell him, _breathe _him, it had killed him, and now it all came rushing out. It filled his senses, _Syed _filled his senses.

Syed's hands started tearing at Christian's clothes, pulling up his t-shirt, yanking it over his head. For Christian, seeing him like this, wild, wanton, was a turn on in itself. To the outside world Syed could often appear restrained, and mild-mannered, but he knew the real Syed. The passion and depth of feeling that lay beneath his cool exterior, his intensity mixed with a vulnerability and sensitivity made for a heady, intoxicating mixture that Christian simply couldn't resist. No man had ever made him feel him like this before, and he was sure that no one had looked into Syed's soul the way that he had let him, and he loved him for it.

Syed now had one hand on the back of Christian's neck, pulling him down into his ongoing kiss, barely breaking contact to breath, like he never wanted it to stop. His other hand was roaming Christian's bare chest, his back, his fingers like fire searing his skin. Immediately Christian could feel his erection grow, straining against the denim of his jeans, begging for release. Fuck, he wanted him.

His hands tore at Syed's shirt, ripping a couple of the buttons off in the process, but he didn't care, he wanted to feel his naked body against his. Syed gave a little gasp at the touch of Christian's hands on his smooth skin. Wanting to feel his excitement, his need, his hunger, Christian reached down and grabbed Syed's cock through his trousers, he could feel it hard and pulsating beneath the coarse material.

Syed let out a guttural groan, breaking their kiss while using his hands and body to shove Christian roughly towards the bed. In his haste, he misjudged the space between them and it, and as he pushed and pulled Christian down, Christian missed the bed and ended up hitting the floor with his arse, the back of his head hitting the side of the mattress, Syed fell on top of him, their limbs entangled.

"Shit" Christian exclaimed as the hard floor sent a jolt of pain through his body. Syed paused for a moment, looking down at him intently, a flicker of questioning concern in his eyes, but mostly lustful impatience.

Christian answered him with a kiss, wrapping his long arms and legs around him, pulling Syed closer, the momentary pain as he hit the floor quickly forgotten. His lips sealed around Syed's, his tongue caressing his tongue.

With Syed clasped between his arms and legs, Christian used his whole body to roll over. Syed was underneath him now, breathing heavily between wet kisses. Christian slid his body down Syed's slightly so that their still clothed crotches touched, he heard himself let out a half groan half sigh as he felt his erection pressing against Syed's. Syed wriggled and moaned as he rubbed himself against him.

Syed's hands pushed between them, prising them apart as he reached for the top of Christian's jeans, trying desperately to undo them. His urgent need banishing all thoughts of reservation and constraint from his head, as his body demanded to touch, to be touched.

Christian responded by tightening his arms and legs around Syed, pinning him against him, not wanting to let go, he pushed his tongue deeper into Syed's mouth, feeling locked together with him, his entire body encased in his, like he was trying to devour him, he wanted to be one with him.

Christian couldn't wait any longer, he released him enough so that Syed could undo his jeans. Syed deftly slid Christian's pants and jeans down over his arse in one go, and Syed was already starting to remove his as Christian kicked off his own.

They were lying on the floor now, flesh against flesh, skin against skin, any hope of actually getting to the bed forgotten. Christian's hand was around Syed's cock, stroking it's length, and Syed's hips thrust involuntarily upwards, all control gone. Christian's own acute level of arousal was causing his vision to blur, he ccould hear the blood pounding in his ears, his heart racing in his chest, he ccould hardly breath. He needed him. Now.

"Christian…" Syed pleaded, his voice low and raspy.

At the sound of his name, Christian looked into Syed's entrancing face, their earlier argument completely forgotten for now. Quickly, his fingers were inside him, kneading, stretching, Syed moaning and squirming as he did so and Christian felt his own desire reach fever pitch at the sight of Syed so hungry for him.

"Christian!" Syed said again, almost shouting with his urgency.

Swiftly, Christian hitched his lovers legs up onto his shoulders and then drove inside him, going deeper and deeper, and the sensation was excruciatingly exquisite. Syed moaned and shuddered beneath him. Christian's head was spinning, he felt like he was on fire as he started to move. He tried to keep it slow, but it was no use. Christian looked deep into Syed's beautiful hazel-brown eyes and felt like he was falling into them, faster and deeper with each thrust, Syed looked back at him fervidly, and the feeling only intensified.

Syed was panting now, his eye lids heavy and half-closed, his face flushed, soft noises escaping his swollen lips, his hips jolting up to meet Christian's. Christian reached between them and grabbed Syed's cock, rubbing it to the rhythm of his thrusts. Syed was close now, Christian could feel it, and he tried to hold on for a second longer even though it felt like his whole body was going to explode with the pressure.

As if an electric current was passing through it, Syed's body tensed and arched as he climaxed beneath Christian. He cried out as the intense feelings of warmth and pleasure ran through him.

Christian felt Syed's muscles contract around his own eager and straining cock, and let his own orgasm take him, bringing tears to his eyes as he shouted out his lovers name, "Sy… Sy…."

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ", Christian heard himself exclaim, as his body slumped on Syed's, shockwaves still juddering through him. He rested his head in the nook of Syed's neck and let his legs slide off his shoulders. It was all he could do to keep breathing as his orgasm receded in waves washing through his body. He felt Syed's skin hot and sticky beneath him, his breath shallow and uneven. He felt Syed's arms reach up and encircle him and clung to him while he desperately tried to get himself back under control.

Holding onto Christian, Syed's breathing relaxed and he rained slow, sensuous kisses on the side of Christian's face and neck. His soft lips pressing into Christian's temple before grazing over the roughness of Christian's jaw, and delicately teasing the soft skin underneath, his tongue flicking in and out.

A smile played on the corner of Christian's lips as he tilted his head into Syed's kisses, and he sighed seductively into his neck "I love it when we fight…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is Chapter 3, just a short bridging chapter, I felt we all needed to unwind a bit after the, ahem… 'tension' of Chapter 2. ;-)**

**Characters belong to Eastenders, no copyright infringement intended.**

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><p><strong>Starts pretty much where Chapter 2 left off.<strong>

Syed climbed under the crisp sheets of their bed, still feeling a little shaky after what had just happened. The material was cool and welcoming against his clammy skin. When Christian didn't follow him he turned around and saw the back of his naked form heading towards the kitchen, his bare feet padding softly on the floor as he walked.

"Where are you going?" Syed asked, disappointed that he wasn't getting in bed beside him. Christian looked at him over his shoulder and he couldn't help but admire the way his shoulder and back muscles flexed as he moved.

"A man needs refreshment… after what you just put me through…" Christian's eyes twinkled at him mischievously. But Syed was distracted by the sight of him, his skin glistening in the dimmed light, unable to resist he found his eyes travelling down to his arse, then his huge shapely thighs. His reverie was broken at the sound of Christian's throaty decadent laugh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Shit," Christian stopped abruptly and bent down, making the view even more gratifying. Syed caught himself as he suddenly remembered his outburst earlier that evening.

"Be careful!" Syed shouted, sitting upright. Christian stood up slowly and turned around, gingerly holding several pieces of broken china out in front of him.

"Did you cut yourself?" Syed asked guiltily, he had to concentrate to keep his eyes on Christian's face.

"No, I'm fine." Christian shook his head and disposed of the broken shards into the bin. "…And I thought I was the one who threw tantrums!" he exclaimed, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Syed gazed at him apologetically, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sorry" he said quietly and looked down. The word seemed to hang in the air around him, he _was_ sorry, and not just for the broken cup. He felt unsure of myself and of how to read the situation.

Syed's body was still tingling from the fervour of their love making, but the thoughts had begun to run round his head again. What he'd said to Christian, what he had said to him, what _they, _his parents had said, all the outside pressures creeping into his mind and giving him an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. Aware that he was involuntarily chewing his bottom lip, Syed put a hand to his mouth to stop the nervous habit, and as he did so remembered the taste of Christian on his tongue only minutes earlier. Although only several feet between them, it felt too much, he wanted him close to him.

Christian watched Syed thoughtfully, his face serious, but when Syed's eyes met his, he gave him a gentle smile and moved towards him. Christian had a glass of water in his hand and offered it to Syed with an outstretched arm, who took the glass from him, their fingers brushing longer than necessary. After a few sips Syed gave it back to him and Christian took several long gulps of the cold liquid before placing the glass on the bedside table.

At last, Christian pulled back the bed covers and climbed in next to Syed, putting his arms around him as Syed snuggled down beside him and slid his hands around Christian's waist. They lay facing each other wrapped in each others arms, their heads sharing the same pillow, their eyes locked onto each others like there was nothing else in the room.

"We need to talk." Christian said after a while, his voice soft but determined.

"I know." Syed's voice was barely above a whisper.

"But not tonight…." Christian sighed "Tomorrow. It's the weekend, maybe we can go out somewhere, get away from… everything… really talk."

"That would be… nice." said Syed, struggling to find the right word. he did really want to talk with Christian, talk through everything that was happening in their lives right now, what might happen, things that had happened but had been left unspoken about. They both needed it, he thought. Part of him knew it would bring a huge sense of relief, but it also scared him, made him feel vulnerable. But looking deep into his lovers eyes, he knew he was hurting too and he wanted to make it better, for him, for both of them.

Christian put his warm hand on the side of Syed's face, his fingers caressing his cheek. "Tonight it's just you and me," he whispered sleepily, his eyes so caring and compassionate like he knew exactly what Syed was thinking and feeling. "No one else. I just want to hold you… I've missed you". Christian placed a soft kiss on his lips, then pulled Syed into him, so he was laying with his head on Christian's chest. He felt Syed relax as he tenderly stroked a lock of hair away from his face.

Syed lay still, listening to Christian's heart beating in the same rhythm as his own and felt his chest rise and fall with each lengthening breath. It soothed and lulled him, a satisfied little smile seemed to take over his lips and he couldn't shake it off. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a contented sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I'm on a roll, here is chapter 4 already! Thank you to everyone who has written a review!**

**Characters and locations belong to Eastenders, no copyright infringement intended.**

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><p><strong>It's the next morning.<strong>

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The noise filled Syed's subconscious, stirring him from his slumber. He made a non committal sound and turned on his front, burying his face in the pillow, trying to block out the sound. He could feel Christian shift in the bed beside him.

"Sorry babe." Christian said.

Syed heard him reach over and turn off the alarm. The bed lightened as Christian sat up, and Syed turned his head towards him. He was greeted with the vast expanse of Christian's muscular back and shoulders as he sat on the side of the bed, pulling on his pants.

"I've got an early client, poor guy doesn't know what weekends are for… but as soon as we're done, I'm all yours." Christian gave Syed a quick peck on the head and watched as he buried his face back in the pillow.

As Syed's groggy mind slowly began to focus he could hear Christian pulling on clothes and then helping himself to a bowl of cereal, which he devoured with great speed. At the sound of jangling keys Syed rolled over onto his back so he could see him.

"I'll try and be as quick as I can," Christian said apologetically, gym bag in one hand, slipping his keys into his pocket with the other. "I would have cancelled, but it's Beer Barrel Bob, " he said, grinning like a cheshire cat "He's gonna be a regular income for the next few years at the rate it's gonna take _him_ to get a six pack."

"Christian, that's very unprofessional to talk about your clients like that." Syed berated him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"With all the money he's spending he'd be better off getting liposuction." Christian's laughter was infectious, and Syed couldn't keep a straight face.

As Christian reached for the door, he called casually over his shoulder, "Oh and you're gonna have to go to the Minute Mart…."

"What?" exclaimed Syed.

"I used all the milk." Christian said smirking. Syed sat up, grabbing his pillow from behind him and flung it in his direction.

"Hey!" Christian chuckled and instantly ducked, but there was no need to as the pillow fell a few feet in front of him.

He laughed again, "I can see we're gonna have to work on your biceps more, we've been concentrating far too much on _other_ areas…."

Syed tried to scowl at him, but his smile wouldn't be contained, so it came out as more of a grimace. "Oh yeah?" he said challengingly and went to grab another pillow, but before he'd even picked it up Christian had ducked round the door with a wink and was gone.

Syed sighed and rolled over onto Christian's side of the bed, breathing in the masculine scent of him from his pillow. he allowed himself to doze for another 20 minutes or so, before finally getting up and scanning the contents of the fridge, it was somewhat lacking as usual. One of these days they might get their butts in gear and actually get organised with the food shopping, Syed thought to himself. His stomach growling, he pulled on some clothes, ran a comb through his messy, sleep ruffled hair and headed off to the Minute Mart.

As Syed put a few essentials in a basket at the mart, he heard a familiar voice coming from the next aisle at the back of the shop. It was out of view, but he'd recognise that voice anywhere. She hadn't been working at the Minute Mart long, and it was making a simple everyday task like shopping, more difficult and unpredictable than it need be, but at least he got to see her a bit more, at least he _thought_ that was a good thing. Even shopping for groceries now had to be acquainted with more Masood drama, nothing was sacred in this family.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you anymore. " His mothers cutting voice was low and hushed, "There is nothing to discuss. What's past is past. He shouldn't have said what he did, it was… very wrong, I.. I don't know him anymore. He's not in a normal state of mind, anything he says, you can't listen to him, he doesn't know what he's talking about."

Before Syed could move or react, a man appeared from round the corner, pausing when he saw him, a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes before he composed himself.

"Syed," Yusef said in his low hypnotic voice as he nodded towards him, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Yusef stared at Syed intently for what seemed like a second too long, before he walked past him and out of the shop.

Syed rushed round the corner of the aisle and almost bumped into his Mother, her head was bowed and she was frantically stacking cans on a shelf. "Ma?" She looked up at the sound of his voice, her lips drawn in a tight line, her brow furrowed. He searched her face looking for a sign, was today going to be a good day or a bad day? He thought. Was she going to love him or hate him? The only thing he could be certain of was her inconsistency. He knew she was struggling, her and his dad were in serious trouble, the lies, the hypocrisy, the gambling, Jane. He knew Dad had hurt her, really hurt her. But it wasn't fair, messing with his head, messing with his heart like this.

"I'm busy." Zainab snapped at Syed, barely looking at him, he could see the pain and anger in her face.

Right, it's going to be one of those days Syed thought. He was tempted, so tempted to press her, to ask her what was wrong, to ask how she was, to offer her some comfort. His heart longed to reach out to her, to somehow try to make it all better. But he took a deep breath and with all the strength he could muster he turned around and walked away. He had to. But it didn't stop him feeling guilty, then feeling angry at himself for feeling guilty. Then feeling angry at her, and guilty for feeling angry at her. He could almost laugh at his own ridiculousness, if he didn't feel like crying.

Back at the flat Syed put the shopping away and made himself breakfast and coffee. He felt better with something in his stomach, and glancing at the clock saw that Christian would be back before long and they could spend some time together. He sipped the milky coffee clasped between his hands, it's heat warming his fingers, the thought of Christian bringing a little wistful smile to his face.

He'd been trying to bottle up his feelings again. He knew he was doing it, but it had become such a habit over his life that sometimes he just didn't know what else to do, or _how_ to explain himself and what he was feeling. It was different now, he had Christian, someone who loved him unconditionally, who wanted to know every part of him, but he still found it daunting. He worried about other people's reactions, and Christian reactions to his feelings about his parents hadn't always been what he wanted to hear. But he trusted him, he needed him, and Christian needed him to be honest, like he was honest. Resolutely he drained the last drops of coffee from his mug and put the dishes in the sink, then headed for the shower.

Syed switched on the bathroom radio that hung on the wall and turned the volume up loud, the radio was shaped like a fish and Christian had thought it was hilariously camp when he insisted that they buy it. As he stepped into the shower he felt himself relax, the hot water deliciously soothing on his bare shoulders, washing the tension away. Listening to the beat of music above the roar of the shower in his ears, he put all thoughts out of his head and closed his eyes...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5, and we're back to that again, yes it's very smutty, be warned! **

**I've now got the next chapters mapped out, so I'm not making it up as I go along anymore, hence this one's a bit longer! Just to confirm it's set at roughly the same time as the current storyline but without the adoption/proposal.**

**Characters belong to Eastenders, no copyright infringement intended.**

**Thanks to all who have already reviewed and to those who are going to!**

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><p>As Christian stepped through the door and dropped his bag on the floor, he could hear the humming of the radio and the rush of the water from the bathroom at the back of the flat. Syed was in the shower. Hmmmm, he thought to myself and couldn't stop the delectable image of water running off Syed's naked skin from entering his head. He was feeling hot and sticky from the training session and needed a shower himself. Perfect timing.<p>

He quietly took off his clothes and stealthily opened the door to the bathroom. Syed didn't hear him above the noise of the radio and roaring shower, the bathroom was warm and humid, moisture droplets hung in the air and steamed up the glass door of the shower. Christian could see the form of Syed's body through the hazy glass, he had his back to him. He smiled wickedly to himself, aware of his body responding to the sight of him, dirty thoughts filling in my head.

As gently as he could he opened the shower door, Syed remained perfectly still, facing the shower, head tilted backward and letting the water wash over him , oblivious to Christian's presence. For a brief moment Christian stood and admired the way the water soaked his thick black hair, tendrils curling and snaking onto his neck, then falling in waves down the clear smooth skin of his back, taking with it the bubbles and suds of his shower gel, and finally splashing off the curve of his arse.

Unable to keep his hands off him any longer, Christian closed the door behind him and reached for Syed's hips. Immediately he felt him jump and bristle under his touch. Syed spun round, his shoulders twitching, his wide startled eyes met Christian's and Christian felt guilty for giving him such a shock. Seeing him, Syed frowned crossly "Christian! Don't do that! You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry babe, I didn't mean… Its ok, just relax." Christian sighed sincerely, sliding his hands round the wet skin of Syed's waist, and tilting his head into the side of his neck. Christian felt the water behind him moisten his face and breathed in the scent of Syed's freshly washed skin. After a moment he felt Syed's body soften.

"What are you doing anyway?" Syed asked innocently, but his voice had a low sexy lilt, his eyes were dancing flirtatiously with Christian's.

"I needed a shower." Christian kept up the innocent pretence, but he was breathing heavily, his face inching closer to Syed's.

"Yeah, you do stink a bit." Syed said teasingly, his voice husky, a decadent glint playing in his eyes.

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?" Christian challenged him through narrowed eyes, his lips breathing hot air onto Syed's cheek.

Syed gave a little irresistible tilt of his head and reached for the shower gel on the shelf, his eyes twinkling knowingly at Christian. He squirted some of the white gel into his hands and lathered it up til it was foaming and frothy. With slow deliberate movements he washed the soap over Christian's skin, first his chest, then his arms, his back, adding more soap when needed.

The combination of the feel of his hands, the slippery gel sliding through his fingers and across Christian's skin, the hot pulsating pressure of the water from the shower, sent Christian's senses into overdrive. As Syed's hands went lower, sliding over and between Christian's buttocks, Christian's breath wavered and he felt his erection straining. He made to move himself towards Syed, wanting to press his body against his, find his lips with my mouth. But somehow, Syed did a little twist and lithely ducked under his arm, he opened the door of the shower and stepped out.

"Well, that's me done." Syed called from over his shoulder, there was an impish smile on his face.

"What?" Christian asked incredulously "You haven't even started yet!" Pouting, Christian watched as Syed grabbed a large fluffy towel and began leisurely rubbing himself dry, even that, Christian found extremely erotic. "Ah, I get it" Christian sussed, shaking his head "Payback, right?" Syed raised his eyebrows at him and smiled provocatively.

Christian was about to charge after him when he realised that he was still covered in suds. Grunting under his breath, he quickly let the water wash the soap away, and when he looked up Syed was gone.

He found him again lying on the L-shaped sofa., his legs stretched out before him, ankles crossed, his still damp hair spread out on the cushions propping up his head and shoulders. He had one hand behind his head, his green dressing gown was wrapped loosely around him, exposing the dark curling hair on his chest, and the shapely muscles in his legs. Christian pulled his own dressing gown up over his shoulders but let it hang loose at the sides, unabashedly showing his still aroused state. Syed was looking up at him expectantly.

"You owe me." Christian sulked.

"Oh, I'd say we were pretty even." smirked Syed.

"Yeah, alright." Christian said, chuckling as he gave in.

He climbed onto the end of the sofa, crawling his way up until his body was hovering over Syed's, supporting himself with his arms as he looked into Syed's face "Let me make it up to you." Christian said huskily. Syed stared at him unblinking with those intense eyes of his, and Christian watched as his lips parted slightly and he gave a quiet intake of breath. "Ok." he whispered.

Christian bent down and placed a gentle light kiss on his mouth, teasing his bottom lip with his tongue. Christian felt him press his lips harder against his, Syed's tongue seeking out his own. Christian kissed him back savouring the soft wetness of his mouth, before moving his kiss along his jaw, the roughness of Syed's stubble prickling the sensitive skin of his lips and tongue. Christian left a trail of kisses down the delicate skin of his neck, as Syed tilted his chin back to allow him easier access. As Christian licked along the groove of Syed's collarbone, he felt Syed's hand on the back of his neck, his thumb stroking the skin before his fingers reached up and nestled into Christian's hair.

Christian found the cord of Syed's dressing gown, and slowly untied it, letting the fabric fall away to reveal his naked body underneath. His mouth began to make a pathway down Syed's chest, kissing, licking, nibbling, only detouring to gently tease his nipples with his tongue.

Syed shivered at the touch and his moved his hands to the back of Christian's shoulders, his fingers pressing into his skin, clinging on to him, pulling him down, silently urging him to continue.

Christian's mouth travelled lower down Syed's abdomen, licking around the contours of his navel, before coming to rest at the top of his groin where his dark hair thickened. He paused and pulled back, admiring Syed's state of arousal, his cock hard and erect, before looking into his face with a lustful smile.

Syed's face was hungry with desire, his cheeks flushed, his eye lids heavy, he looked down at Christian to see why he'd stopped.

The sight of Syed, highly aroused, sent a further rush of blood to Christian's own nether regions.

"Is there something you want Sy?" Christian asked, his voice hoarse, his chest rising and falling heavily with each deepening breath.

"You know… what I… want" Syed replied ardently, between quivering breaths.

Christian lowered his head again, his mouth hovering above Syed's straining cock, as close as he could get without actually touching it. Syed felt Christian's warm breath on it's tip and let out a shallow gasp, his hips arched upwards and he felt the soft flesh of his head collide with Christian's lips.

"Easy tiger," Christian cajoled, and placed his hands on Christian's slender hips, holding him down.

"Christian…" Syed wriggled under his touch and Christian licked his lips suggestively, before finally bringing his mouth down on Syed's eager cock. Christian's lips encased the head, his tongue swirling around the tip, teasing, stroking. He savoured the taste of him as his saliva mixed with Syed's wetness, his tongue slipping and sliding over him.

Syed groaned and bucked his hips again, but Christian held him firm and moved his mouth down his shaft, the moist flesh of his tongue sliding around the smooth hardness, as Christian moved up and down him, Syed's whimpers and groans escalated. As Christian's mouth worked on his cock, his fingers startled to fondle the soft, spongy flesh of Syed's balls, making him twitch and turn his head from side to side.

Christian loved the way Syed responded to him, the quiet way he let him know how intensely he was pleasuring him, and although it often seemed it was he who took the lead in their love-making, Christian was under no illusion of who was really in control here, and it wasn't him.

No other lover had ever had this much power over him, and he'd had a fair few in his time. Christian had always been the stronger one, the one in charge, taking what he wanted, never getting too emotionally involved. But being with Syed was completely different to anything he'd ever experienced before. All Syed had to do was give him 'the look', those beautiful brown eyes like a magnet drawing him in, the soft sensual way he parted his lips, the gentle sway of his shoulders and hips, and Christian was his, heart, body and soul.

It was never just a physical thing for him, even from that first time. Syed had reached a part of him that no one had reached before, and even when Syed wasn't with him, he could still feel the invisible bond between them, filling his thoughts with him, pulling them back together, time and time again. It was like there was an electrical current between them, sending waves through time and distance, a current that no matter how hard they may have tried couldn't be broken and when they inevitably came together, the sparks would fly, the power would surge and the connection would grow ever stronger. Christian just had to touch him, to feel him, to know every part of him, inside and out.

I am his, Christian thought, and he is mine. Together, it just seemed, right.

Syed held his breath and his muscles tensed, he was going to come. Christian clamped his mouth down over his cock, swallowing the length of him, feeling him pulsating against the sensitive skin inside his mouth. Syed's body arched upwards and went rigid as he climaxed, releasing himself into Christian's mouth, quickly Christian swallowed, repeating again until he was spent and Christian felt Syed's body relax underneath him.

Syed let out a long shuddering sigh as Christian sat up, taking in quick gasps of air as he did so. Christian admired Syed's post-climactic state, a rosy flush had spread across his chest, the skin across his cheeks and forehead glowed with a sheen of perspiration, his lips were red and full. The sight of him reaffirmed Christian's own urgent need and with the taste of him still in his mouth Christian reached forward and kissed him passionately on those full, red lips.

Syed returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm, his tongue exploring deep into Christian's mouth, where his cock had been only minutes earlier. Christian lowered his body down onto Syed's, using his elbows for support so as not to crush him with his weight. Their mouths remained locked in a fierce kiss, their bodies now touching the entire length, chest to chest, feet to feet.

Christian could feel his rock hard erection pressed uncomfortable tight against Syed's upper thigh somewhere, and shifted his arse around to release it. As he moved Syed wriggled underneath him until his hands were able to reach Christian's arse and he gave it a delectable squeeze, before moving one hand underneath him and using two fingers to teasingly stroke a line from Christian's scrotum to the sensitive area at his head. Christian shuddered and moaned at the delicate touch, his nerve endings acute and over-sensitised from his prolonged state of arousal.

"I think you've waited long enough," Syed whispered mercifully in Christian's ear, and Christian felt him lift his right leg over him and he held his arms, gently pushing him into the back of the sofa. They both turned on their sides and Christian put an arm around Syed to stop him falling off the edge of the seats. They settled down again on their sides, face to face, their noses almost touching. Syed took Christian's balls in his hands, fondling them in his fingers, while he leant in and teased Christian's lips with his own, sucking, pulling nibbling. His tongue flicked across them, all the while managing to avoid Christian's own searching, desperate tongue.

Christian could stand it no more and reached up holding Syed's head firmly between his hands, while his mouth pressed down hard on Syed's, his tongue frantically taking over the inside of his mouth. Syed grabbed Christian's cock tightly in his hand, sending shock waves throughout Christian's entire body. Christian looked deep into his eyes as he kissed him, feeling Syed's hand move up and down along him. Syed had a dazed expression on his face, like he still couldn't quite believe he had this effect on Christian. It only took a few strokes until the build up inside Christian reached it's crescendo, his eyes never leaving Syed's as he came forcefully all over his hand. As Christian trembled and jerked, Syed chuckled softly to himself, determinedly catching all Christian's drips so as not to get any on the sofa.

"You're so considerate" Christian purred good-naturedly as his body relaxed. Syed smirked and rolled his eyes before untangling himself from him and standing up.

"Umm…I think we're going to need another shower." Syed said, holding his sticky hands out in front of him and smiling in that bewitching way he had.

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><p>Christian led the way, pushing his way through the crowds of invisible faces to climb on the tube and grab a two seat space near the back, Syed was right behind him, his hand on Christian's back. Christian sat down heavily on the tatty covered seat, Syed plopped down by his side. "So, where is it we're going again?" Syed asked.<p>

"A little Mexican place down by the river, great food, good atmosphere, but usually not too busy at this time of day, will give us a chance to talk… we could even go for a walk along the riverside afterwards." Christian replied casually, trying to arrange his long legs in the cramped space before him.

Syed squinted at him dubiously. "What?" he questioned, eyebrows raised. "You want to go for a walk by the river?" he mocked, giving Christian an irritated look as he wriggled about trying to get comfortable in his seat.

"I can do romantic walks by the river." Christian protested, finally settling with one leg pressed up against Syed's. He flashed a relaxed smile at him, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as the tube rumbled on.

At the next stop a handful of people made their way past them, lastly a salon-tanned man with bleached highlights and designer t-shirt. "Gay or straight?" Christian asked quietly in Syed's ear, gesturing to the man with a nod of his head.

Syed rolled his eyes at Christian in exasperation, "Christian, I am not playing this ridiculous game with you."

"Only cause you always lose." Christian laughed softly and laid his hand on Syed's knee, affectionately rubbing his thigh with his thumb.

Syed glanced at Christian sideways, a smile playing on his lips "Only cause you always think you're right, what are you gonna do, go and ask him?"

"Is that a challenge?" Christian teased him, his voice low. Syed looked at him shocked, worried, and cross all at the same time. He was so easy to wind up and so adorable with it, Christian squeezed his thigh good-naturedly "Don't worry, he's not my type."

Syed raised his eyebrows at him and his mouth curved upwards at the corners. "Oh Yeah?" but he still didn't look entirely convinced.

"Yeah." Christian replied, leaning his face in close to his, "I only have one type. You." he gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Syed laughed softly and grimaced at Christian's cheesiness, but then put his hand over his and looked at Christian intensely, his gaze holding his for what must only have been a few minutes but seemed like an eternity. Before Christian knew where they were, the train had stopped and Syed was holding his hand, pulling him to his feet.

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><p>Music played softly in the background, blending with the voices of the other diners spotted about the restaurant, reducing them to background noise as Christian and Syed sat opposite each other in a secluded corner. Christian absent-mindedly watched Syed while he ate, rolling his fajita with delicate fingers, sucking a drop of the sticky spicy sauce off his thumb, then bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite with his perfect white teeth. Christian admired the way his jaw muscles moved as he chewed.<p>

"Er.. Christian?" Syed said.

Christian looked into his eyes, suddenly aware he'd been caught staring.

"Your food's getting cold." Syed nodded to Christian's plate, his eyes twinkling, a sly grin on his face.

Christian smiled, "It's so nice to get away from the square for a bit. This place isn't bad." He said between mouthfuls. "At least there's no chance of your Dad or Godzilla turning up." He cringed inside as he said it, at the crestfallen look on Syed's face. Sometimes he just said things without thinking, he could be flippant, too blunt for his own good. He knew he did it, sometimes he wished he' would put his brain in gear before opening his mouth.

"I saw Mum this morning." Syed said, before Christian could recover. "Yeah?" Christian replied, raising an eyebrow, using his food as a distraction.

"In the Minute Mart with Yusef, they were talking about Dad, saying he's not himself, saying things…" he said gingerly, testing the water.

"What things?" Christian enquired.

"I don't know, I think he thinks there's something going on between Mum and Yusef, Mum was really upset, even Yusef didn't seem his usual calm self." Syed looked at him, worried, confused, like he wished Christian could give him all the answers. Christian knew how much he still cared about his mother, and was tormented by how she kept blowing hot and cold. He just sometimes wished Syed could take a step back, see clearly what she was doing to him, how she was using him, sometimes he did see, but then sometimes he didn't want too and other times he went to her anyway, because he was the better person.

Christian took a deep breath, carefully considering what he was going to say, "Well, your parents are going through a pretty tough time at the moment, it's bound to take it's toll, make them say things they don't mean, see things that aren't necessarily there." he said sympathetically, and he was sympathetic, to Syed, watching his parents tear themselves to pieces was hurting him he knew. He'd told him the problems they were having, they'd faced financial ruin after the Arjee Bhajee fiasco.

A brief image of Syed laying unconscious on the floor of the Arjee Bajee, covered in blood and dust entered Christian's head, Zainab stepping round him as she walked away, the anger and ghost of his fear swelled in his gut, but he pushed it away, this wasn't the time. They needed to talk about this, to meet in the middle somewhere.

"Everything's such a mess Christian," Syed said with a sigh, sounding deflated. He pushed his empty plate away and rested his elbows on the table.

"It's their mess Sy, it's been coming a long time, I'm just glad _we_ managed to get out, to break the cycle, to build stronger foundations, based on honesty and respect." Christian reached across and put his hand on Syed's. "But I know how much it still hurts you, how much you wish things could be different with them." He looked sad, lost. Christian looked at him earnestly, urging him to continue, showing him that he was willing to listen, to be there for him, even if he didn't agree with everything that was happening.

"How can she do it Christian?" there were tears in his eyes, and Christian squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I just wish I knew what was really going on with her, one day she wants me in her life, the next she's pushing me away. " He gulped and composed himself. "Dad still seems set in his 'disappointment' of me." he spoke the word bitterly, "Him and Mum are at loggerheads, both as bad as one another and then there's Yusef, always in the background. I don't trust him, he seems to be playing his own game, I just wish I knew what it was."

"He obviously lied about your dad wanting you at Tam's engagement party, I don't know, he could have been trying to help…" Christian offered, not even convincing himself.

"I know Mum's really got no one to turn to at the moment, but is that all it is? Is that why she wants me now? Or could this be the start of a proper chance for us? I just don't know what to think, who to believe anymore." Syed bowed his head slightly.

"I really don't know what the answer is babe." Christian said truthfully, "I just see you hurting, and I know how spiteful and vindictive she can be." He took a deep breath, determined not to get defensive, "But I do see how low she is, how desperate, I do see it, that day in the café, when you took her back to ours… But she's still the same Zainab to me and I hate to see her treating you like this, using you, and I fear she's never going to accept you like you want her to, or accept 'us'"

Christian paused, he was getting down to it now, the irrational fear that sometimes made him lash out. "What if you do become part of their lives again? But on one condition, that I'm not part of it?"

Now it was Syed's turn to look at Christian with concern, "Christian," he shook his head "That's not gonna happen, you'll always be part of my life, you're the best part, and nothing will change that, I won't let it, I can't." He stared deep into Christian's eyes, unblinking, then ran his hand up and down his arm, Christian looked down at the touch, giving him a warm, tingling feeling.

"Christian." he said again, causing him to look back up. "_I _won't accept it. Too much has happened, If she really needs me I can't say I won't be there, on the outskirts, but that's all. It will be on my terms, my conditions. I won't accept them back into my life completely unless they accept you too, if that means never, then that's what I choose. I already made my choice a long time ago and nothing's changed."

Christian couldn't help but smile at him, he looked so young, but so steadfast in that moment. He loved him so much, needed him so much, more than he liked to admit sometimes. Christian drained the last of his drink, "Let's get out of here," he said, "get some fresh air…go for that walk I promised you." Syed nodded and Christian gave him a reassuring wink, before beckoning for the bill.

* * *

><p>The air had cooled as the light started to fade, Syed shivered and Christian put his arm around him as they walked, without thinking Syed's own arm snaked around Christian's back. They sauntered leisurely along the deserted path, neither of them in a hurry to get anywhere. The river was making soft lulling noises to their left, leaves of shrubbery rustling in the breeze to ther right, the sound of cars and city noise but a backdrop, every so often a street lamp illuminated their way.<p>

They walked silently for a while, comfortable in their closeness, contemplating their own thoughts. "This is nice." Syed said finally, breaking the silence, then he looked at Christian sheepishly, like he hadn't conveyed what he had wanted to say. Christian looked at him, bright lights amid the darkening landscape reflected like little points of fire in his brown eyes.

Christian stopped and turned Syed towards him. "It's gonna be ok," he smiled gently "It's all gonna be ok."

Syed reached up and kissed Christian on the lips, a soft, slow, tender kiss. When he'd finished Christian pressed his lips together savouring his taste, his touch. Syed turned his head away again, a smile playing on his lips and then he took Christian's arm and they walked hand in hand, along the path together.


	6. Chapter 6

**I should warn you before you start, that this chapter is very long, and naturally contains very specific smut!**

**I hope I don't offend anyone with the religious mentions in this chapter. I felt it was important to the authenticity of the characters to include mentions of their faith, but obviously these references only stem from my own visions of the characters and my own interpretations and ideas.**

**As always, characters belong to Eastenders, no copyright infringement intended.**

**Thank you to everyone for reading and to those who have left reviews, and/or set up story/author alerts, the encouragement is greatly appreciated!**

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><p>Syed's mind drifted from the contented bliss of deep sleep, into the kind of half-consciousness where it wasn't clear where fantasy ended and the real world began. Images echoed in his mind from a dream already forgotten but still felt. Christians face smiling at him, the touch of his hand on his, he felt the warmth of his body heat, the heavy comforting presence of his body laid next to his.<p>

Everything was quiet and still, the only sound he could hear was the sound of Christian's deep, peaceful breathing. His subconscious told him to relax, the absence of noise from the street below letting his mind know that it wasn't time yet, not time to be burdened with decision making and daily schedules, to worry what the day may bring.

Although his eyes remained closed, his mind began to adjust to it's new awakened state, registering the coolness of the air on the bare skin of his back, the crispness of the sheets around his waist, the snug warmth under the coverings.

Instinctively he reached out a hand to touch Christian, not even aware he was doing it. He felt the warmth of soft skin, the smoothness of hard muscle beneath his fingertips. Edging over towards his source of heat, of strength, Syed snuggle down beside him, his face against his shoulder. He breathed in the scent of him, as if it was the very essence of him that kept his body breathing, his heart beating, as if without it he might wither and fade.

Syed's mind drifted again, the covering blanket of slumber threatening to pull him back in, take him back into it's enveloping folds. But the feel of Christian's skin next to his held him in place, connected his body to the waking world, Christian's warmth making his nerve endings tingle and bringing them back to life. Syed felt Christian's heat radiate through him, it travelled through his veins, all the way to his heart, making it beat faster, stronger.

Syed's heavy eyelids parted, his vision slowly adjusting to the dusky shadows that still fell heavily across the room. Christian was laying on his front, his back and shoulders a vast expanse of tanned skin and sculptured muscle gently rising and falling with each sleeping breath. Syed looked up into his face, which was turned sideways towards his, as if he was seeking him out in his dreams. His expressive emerald eyes hidden, soft lashes skimming his cheeks.

He looked younger, vulnerable, Syed thought, without the lively bravado of his waking swagger. Syed's eyes danced over the perfect lines of his nose, the soft shape of his slightly parted lips, the prickly stubble along his jaw blending into the smooth skin of his defined cheek bone.

Syed could almost feel his heart swell and miss a beat, his breath seemed to catch in his throat as he was yet again overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings for him, for Christian. He felt an overwhelming desire to protect him, to keep him from harm, on some subconscious level realising, that at the same time he would be protecting them, keeping _them_ from harm.

It seemed the most important thing in the world, the sanctity of them, the connection between them, two people who belonged together. There was only Christian and him, everything outside that room, outside their bed, outside _them_, seemed a dream, an uncertainty. This was real, this was right, this is what it felt like to really feel, to really be alive, to really live.

He loved him. He loved him with every bit of his being, his mind, his body, his soul. His love for him was pure and strong. It would always be there. As he drowsily looked upon his beautiful serene face, he felt an immense desire to show him, to tell him he loved him, to feel all of him against him, to soothe him, to caress him, to worship every fibre of him. Christian was his superman. he'd told him that, embarrassed by his own cheesiness, but Christian wasn't embarrassed, he knew, he understood.

Syed was sure he knew how much he loved him, he'd told him of course, but not enough, not nearly enough, not as much as Christian had told him. But Christian let him know in the way he reacted when Syed touched him, the way he looked so deep and long into his eyes, that he knew, he saw. Christian always saw the real him, and in this still vacuum of time between night and morning, where troubles and worries of the mind had yet to awaken, where insecurities and self-consciousness didn't exist, it was only Christian, and him, and them.

Syed couldn't be apart from him any longer, even their bodies slightly touching, side by side, wasn't enough. His still sleep clouded mind put up no resistance as his body took over, inching and sliding smoothly over Christian and on top of him, Syed's chest pressing into the firmness of Christian's back, his head resting neatly between his shoulder blades. His legs trailed down the length of Christian's legs, his arms wrapping around his arms. The hard bone of Syed's hips nestled into the soft but firm flesh of Christian's behind, as he draped himself over him.

Syed felt Christian stir beneath him at his sudden weight upon him, he heard him murmur and take a deep intake of breath. Syed felt no remorse for having woken him and Christian offered no rebuke, instead, with recognition, he seemed to melt under the heat of Syed's body and relax more into the softness of their bed. From his repose between Christian's shoulder blades, Syed watched as one of his eyelids half opened and a gentle smile widened the corners of his lips. Christian mumbled something from his semi-dozing state, it sounded like, "Comfortable, Sy?"

Yes, he was comfortable. More comfortable than he'd ever been in his whole life. Comfortable with him, comfortable in his own skin. Syed watched as Christian's eyelids relaxed once more, but the ghost of his smile remained on his lips as Syed listened to and watched his quiet breaths in and out.

Some time passed as he lay, letting Christian's heat seep into him, warming him, waking his tired limbs. Syed's mouth began to ache, ache for the taste of him, the intimate touch of his sensitive lips against Christian's bare skin. He lifted his head and gently pressed his lips against Christian's warm flesh where his head had lay, "I love you", he breathed into Christian's skin, the words barely above a whisper, he didn't even know if Christian was awake or asleep.

Syed rubbed his lips tenderly against Christian, a lovers caress, pursing against his smooth flesh, trying to grip his skin between the softness, and leaving a mist of warm, moist air on his back as his breath fell upon him. He pulled up from him slightly, immediately missing the solid contact of Christian against his bare chest, but rewarded with more delights for his lips to taste. Syed's knees slid down either side of Christian and onto the bed to support himself as he began a trail of feathery light kisses down his lovers spine.

Suddenly Christian reached a hand up behind him, stroking down Syed's arm and finding his hand, his fingers clasping and entwining in his. He mumbled something sleepily but his words were caught and muffled by his pillow.

Syed placed a lingering kiss at the very base of Christian's spine, in the indentation before the rise and swell of his buttocks. "I love you." he said quietly, breathing onto Christian again like he was leaving a stamp on his skin. Christian sighed as Syed's tongue flicked the same spot, sealing the kiss and the breath of his words.

As his tongue tasted Christian's salty sweetness Syed found himself hungry for more, and his tongue slowly licked and stroked it's way back up his spine, his head reaching Christian's shoulders and nuzzling into the crook of his neck where he kissed and sucked at the delicate skin. "I love you." Syed say again, his voice low and husky, the temperature in his veins rising, his need for him growing, his arousal heightening.

Syed looked up and was rewarded with a flash of Christian's brilliant green eyes as they immediately locked onto his. He could feel them boring into him, looking inside him, seeing what lay beneath, but he didn't feel uncomfortable, he felt liberated. Christian could see him, really see him. Christian turned his head more and opened his mouth to speak, but Syed silenced him by claiming his lips in a deep slow kiss. His tongue sought Christian's and they slid and wrapped themselves around each other in a warm, wet embrace.

As their tongues moved in and out, moans and low hums escaped their lips, indistinguishable between them. Syed broke their kiss, repeating the words that never seemed enough, "I love you." As he looked intently into Christian's eyes, time seemed to stop around them.

Gradually, Syed pulled back and sat up, kneeling astride the top of Christian's thighs, his breathing heavy and laboured at the sight of Christian's naked body laid face down before him, he felt his erection hardening between his legs. Unable to resist the magnet that always drew him towards him, he put his palms on Christian's bare flesh. Syed's expert hands kneaded and stroked into his powerful muscles with slow, sensual, deliberate movements, his fingernails gently raking over his skin. Christian's little noises of contentment encouraged him to go lower and his hands travelled down to the curve of his arse. Syed could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears and little thrills ran down his spine as he kneaded his fingers into it's delectable firmness, Christian's groaning and squirming beneath him only adding to his excitement, his need, for Christian, for them, to be together.

"Sy…" Christian moaned, and Syed leant over him once more, sliding up to whisper into his neck, as he did so his throbbing cock rubbed against the swell of Christian's arse, causing him to shiver and gasp with the stab of sensory pleasure. Resting his chest against his back, acutely aware of the feel of his erection pressed between them, Syed breathed into his ear, "I love you Christian." He spoke with conviction, his lips unable to resist pausing to suck on Christian's ear lobe, his tongue feeling for the racing pulse behind his ear. Eventually Syed's mouth found it's way back to whisper huskily, "I love you. I want to _make_ love to you."

Christian looked sideways at Syed lovingly and longingly, his eyes fierce and bright. Sliding back down him slightly, Syed reached to the hidden place on their bedside cabinet, and sat up to smooth the cool gel on his straining cock, the sensation causing him to suck in his breath, as Christian arched his neck and shoulders turning round to watch him fervidly. Syed placed his forearm across Christian's back, pushing him back onto the bed, whilst supporting himself as he leaned forward.

Christian reached back for Syed's other hand, caressing and stroking it adoringly before bringing it to his lips, licking his fingers suggestively before taking them inside, sucking, stroking, rolling them around his mouth.

The sight and feel of his fingers in Christian's mouth drove Syed wild with desire, but he resisted the immediate urge to rub his seeping cock against Christian's arse, and instead dragged his fingers away from his lips. He kissed Christian's back again, his tongue lapping at his skin, teeth making little indentations, as he lowered his hand, stroking his wet fingers over his butt cheeks. Slowly he inserted a finger, just the tip at first, wiggling and bending it as he pushed further in. Christian groaned and his arse pushed up to meet Syed's fingers as he pushed in another, and another, circling them, pressing, kneading, sliding them in and out, as Christian squirmed and sighed beneath him, all the while his tongue tracing patterns across Christian's back.

"Shit." Christian growled lustfully under his breath. Syed slowly withdrew his fingers and repositioned himself as he gently slipped the head of his straining erection between Christian's butt cheeks, unable to contain his squeal as his firm flesh rubbed against him. Syed slid himself backwards and forwards against him and Christian's arse rode up, calling him in his desperate need. Syed's mouth was open, hot air escaping in quivering waves as he delighted in the sensation.

Syed pulled back and his hand found it's way to Christian's arse again, tracing a line down it's chasm with his fingers, pushing his cheeks apart, to find the destination his desire so desperately needed. Gingerly he guided himself into him, pushing a little a time, relishing the exquisite feel of Christian's tightness as it squeezed him, sending a bolt of electricity through his entire body. Christian bucked beneath him, and let out a low animalistic groan.

For a moment Syed couldn't breath, the feel and sight of Christian overwhelmed him, his heart felt fit to burst, his body threatened to take on a life of it's own. He tooke a deep breath and urged himself to relax. Leaning over him, he kissed his warm bare skin again as he thrusted forward, driving his complete length deep inside him. Christian called out loudly and Syed sighed with the sheer pleasure, his voice answering, "I love you."

Syed drew a sharp intake of breath and a shudder rocked through him. His forearm still providing his support across Christian's back, he gently and gradually pulled his hips backwards, revelling in the delicious feel of himself sliding against him. He felt in no rush to find release, easing himself back in slowly and deliberately, wanting to prolong every movement, every sensation, be totally aware of every tingling nerve-ending, every burning ache for him, every beat of his heart that pulsed with his love for him.

He wanted him to feel it, to feel him, to feel what he meant to him. He moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, the rhythm of his heart, of his love. As Christian's body rose to meet his, caught in the same beat, Syed clung to him, his wet lips placing adoring kisses across his tender skin. Christian's hand reached for Syed's once more, his fingers gripping and locking with his. He was his, Syed thought, his superman.

"Sy…" Christian gasped after a while, as his contented sighs became more ragged, his moans more urgent.

"Yes Christian?" Syed asked in mock innocence, knowing exactly what he wanted and knowing that Christian knew that _he_ knew.

Christian was growing restless beneath him. Unlocking his hand from his, Syed shifted his weight to the side of him, Christian's body moving eagerly with him, not wanting to break their connection for a moment. Christian was now laying partially on his side, just enough to release the pressure and provide access to his overly engorged cock.

Syed lay, still clinging to him, half supported by the bed, half by him. He pressed his forehead against Christian's back, breathing in the scents of their lovemaking, his hand tightly gripping the breadth of Christian's bicep. Syed's hips rocked and swayed as he continued his salacious movements inside him.

Christian put his hand on Syed's hand, his fingers stroking the length of his, and Syed let go of his strong arm, letting him guide his palm to it's lustful objective. Syed felt him tense and heard his groan almost before he felt the hot hardness of his cock against the sensitised skin of his palm. He wrapped his fingers around him, and Christian encased them in his own, like his desire had reached such an optimum level it needed both of them to contain it.

Their hands began to move in unison, stroking, massaging along Christian's length. The feel of Christian's obvious voracious state of arousal in his hand, plus his large hand swamping his, feeling himself through Syed, feeling what Syed was feeling, sent a wanton wave of fervour crashing through Syed's veins. Syed's body jerked and he lunged his cock deeper and harder into Christian's arse, Christian responded in equal measure, matching the increased tempo as he thrust into their conjoined hands. Syed felt his body sliding against Christian's, their sweat mingling, the intense heat enveloping them, "Christian." he spat, his voice shaking, then through breathless pants, "I… love… you."

As their joint movements became increasingly rapid and reckless, Christian was getting more and more vocal, his low groans becoming shouts, his breath coming quick and heavy, "Sy, come with me!" he exclaimed, and seconds later his body tensed as Syed rammed his bursting cock deep inside him, losing himself completely in him, to him, as his own body tightened and arched. Syed felt himself pushed to the brink, his whole body about to explode, teetering on the edge, and he jumped.

He jumped faithfully, lovingly, giving himself totally to Christian, to _them_, as he came, gushing out deep within him. The blood rushed through him, the breath squeezed out of him and waves of excruciating pleasure rattled over every inch of his body. Instinctively Syed's hand gripped tighter on Christian's cock, Christian's hand on his. Christian jolted forward, his body shaking, his inner muscles gripping tighter round Syed's cock spurting inside him, he came equally as vigorously, releasing himself in an powerful eruption, screaming out as he did so.

But they didn't stop. They never wanted it to stop. Syed's body refused to let go, driving into Christian again and again with a will all it's own, prolonging the ecstasy as long as possible, sending repeated aftershocks cursing through him. His jolts carried through to Christian, into him, travelling down his own cock as he thrusted over and over into their binded hands.

Only after their bodies were completely and utterly spent, totally satiated finally, did Christian roll over and turn to face Syed, pulling him close to him. "That was… amazing." he stuttered, his eyes glazed and hooded as they peered into Syed's.

They gripped each other tightly, their bodies trembling, pulses racing, breath wavering. Clinging to each other like their lives depended on it, as the power of their joint orgasm receded in waves, a current passing from one body to the next, connecting them, bonding them, joining them together.

Syed felt the air fill his lungs, and the blood flush his veins, his body felt light, unfettered, his mind free from clutter and constraint. His heart was open and true, and it swelled with the love he had to give. He felt whole and complete, at peace in the natural and human state that Allah had made him. He felt loved.

* * *

><p>The artificial light cast a yellow glow that failed to seep into all the shadows of the square kitchen. Zainab potted about putting things away, moving things about that didn't really need to be moved. Absent-mindedly she straightened a row of jars, so that each one lined up orderly with the one next to it, anything to distract from the troublesome thoughts in her head.<p>

It was early, only just 5am, and she couldn't sleep. She'd had a nightmare, the nightmare she'd had many times before, but not for a while, not for a long while, at least not like this, so real. She'd woken up sweating, almost feeling the flames as they licked her skin. Voices had come to her through the fire, faces dancing, distorted in the heat. Not just faces from long ago, but faces from the present, mocking her, laughing at her, taunting her.

The house was quiet, everyone else asleep, but the silence weighed heavy on her mind. It was a threatening silence, a silence of things to come, a silence choked with ash. Too many thoughts rattled round her head that she couldn't control, too many people pulling her in all directions. Why couldn't they leave her alone? Zainab thought imploringly. She'd always tried to do what was right, be a good Muslim, a dutiful wife, a doting mother, hadn't she?

Her movements became sharper, as a familiar anger rose from her gut. She felt her mouth set in a harsh line, the muscles in her face tense and contract as she pondered. People could be so cruel, so twisted, so manipulative, She'd done her best, always done her best, no matter what people had thrown at her, what problems she'd had to deal with, mostly through no fault of her own. Other people's shame, their disgrace, encroaching on her. She'd always tried to stay on the righteous path, to stay upstanding in the community, to do what's best for her family. Hadn't she?

Why did he have to come back into her life now, after all this time? Yusef. He wasn't quite like her memory told her he should be. She felt so confused, like she couldn't trust herself anymore, trust what she knew to be true, what she told herself to be the truth. He was skewing the past, putting a different spin on things, manipulating things, changing things. They were mere children then, how did she know what was real, how much did she really know of what was going on, could she really trust her own feelings and memories? She was so lost back then, so alone, so in need. She felt like everyone and everything was against her, she had no choice, no choice at all. If it hadn't been for Mas…

Now he's seeping into the present too, he's there. Not Mas, not anymore. Yusef. But it's Mas that she loved wasn't it? She never loved Yusef, did she? She felt like she couldn't trust her husband anymore, she didn't know who he was anymore. She resented him for what he'd done to their family, done to her. Mas didn't want her, how could he? He wanted her, Jane. Mas swore to her, swore on Syed's life that he wouldn't gamble again, but he did.

He'd sinned, brought shame on their family, She'd given him chances again and again, he couldn't do it, he always let her down, he always failed. Where was the man that rescued her, that saved her, that loved her? Yusef said he would have saved her if he'd got their first. But it was Mas who was there, that she loved, that was meant to be, wasn't it? Oh Allah, she prayed, what if she was wrong? What if _he_ was her shame, her disgrace, what if everything was breaking because of him? What should she have done? Please, she begged, what should she do?

Tears stung her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. No, she mustn't do this. She must hold things together, She couldn't let people see that they were not united, that they were not proud, that they were not worthy. They were better than them, she was better than them.

She should be respected, she thought indignantly. She had been successful, she had made something of herself, left the shame and hurt behind in Pakistan, built a new life. Started from the ground up. Why was this happening? What did she ever do?

She needed her family behind her, her sense of self, of purpose. Her thoughts turned to her Papou, her Syed, her little boy. He seemed so far, so far away from her. She had loved him with all her heart, she still did, a mother's love, pure and right and good. She had cradled him in her arms, wiped away his tears when he cried, held his hand when he was scared. She was so proud, proud of what she'd achieved, that despite everything she'd made something good.

But he had turned her love, that goodness, and twisted it, he threw it back in her face in front of their whole community, after everything she'd done, for him, how could he do that? Brought shame and disgrace upon them, like she'd never felt for such a long time, since all those years ago in Pakistan. He had chosen a path outside of Allah's love, outside of their community, away from her, away from who he should be, who he was supposed to be.

Yet he has the audacity to still call it love, his sickness, his perversion. He was making a mockery of the word, of the strength of her feelings for him, of her desperate need to have him back, to feel the old Papou in her arms again. She couldn't think of him like that, alone with him, she wouldn't. But her Papou was still there somewhere inside, She felt it in the love she still had for him and she prayed that one day he would find his way back to her, repenting for his sins and the shame he had brought upon them. She missed him so much.

She heard the door creak behind her, and knew who it was without even turning round. His familiar walk, the sound he made as he moved, as he sighed, it was familiar, predictable. She knew his every mannerism, his every response, his every need, his every hope, his every failure.

"Sorry if I woke you." Zainab said solemnly.

"The bed was cold… are you ok?" Masood questioned with apparent concern, pulling and tying his dressing gown around him.

"I couldn't sleep." She snapped, his presence like an intrusion to her.

"Zee…" he said, looking at her through weary eyes.

Suddenly she felt so angry, so bitter at what her life had become. "What Mas? What do you want me to say?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Ssssssh," he berated, brow furrowed and turned to close the kitchen door, "You'll wake the boys, do they really need to hear anymore of us arguing?"

"Ha! We're going to argue again then are we Masood?" she spat, turning to face him full on, as if they ever did anything else these days, she thought. "It's you who've brought this upon our family, if the boys suffer it will be because of you!" She jabbed her finger at him, but her thoughts couldn't help but turn back to the absence of her eldest, "At least one of them is not here to hear it!"

"Oh, we're back to that are we?" his jaw set in that familiar stubborn line.

"You are the one who threw him out Zainab, who burnt his belongings in the street, who as he lay in his hospital bed said it would have been better if he had died! So don't play the martyr with me!" he was angry now, attacking her with his words, what he said stung her, but she wouldn't let him win.

"And you swore on his life, swore on Syed's life that you wouldn't gamble again, yet you did and here we are in a financial mess once again. So you may as well have wished him dead yourself!" she shouted defiantly.

Masood glared at her, his eyes dark and uncompromising, "That's not fair Zainab and you know it!" his voice was raising to match her own, " I was willing to give him another chance, give him a chance to prove himself, to show to us that he could be a man that we could be proud of. I would have forgiven him for his sins, as Allah teaches us, but he chose to walk away, he chose not to repent his lies, his deceit, the shame he brought on our family. I offered him a chance and he might as well of spat in my face!" he paused in his relentless diatribe and took a sharp intake of breath.

"Hate the sin, not the sinner, eh? I'm not perfect Zainab, I've slipped, I know I have, but everyday I try harder, I pray harder, I repent my sins, I try to be a good muslim, to be a good man. What does he do? He lives openly in sin, he doesn't even try to hide it, flaunts it even, like he's deliberately rubbing our noses it in, deliberately defying me!"

Zainab's eyes widened, she couldn't believe they'd come to this, "And what chance did he have Masood?" she screeched, "What chance did he have of living up to your ideals, when every step of the way you were waiting for him to fail, whatever he did it was never good enough for you. You never encouraged him, you never guided him towards the right path, you just pushed him, pushed him and then watched him fall. Well, what did you expect with _you_ as a role model?" She relished the chance to belittle him, make him see what a small man he really was. "Everything you've touched has turned to ash! We'd be happy if it wasn't for you, you've done this to us!"

He lowered his voice, Zainab's words had affected him, "I did my best with that boy, like I've always tried to do the best for you Zainab, for our family. I loved him" he said sternly, his face serious.

Zainab's heart fluttered in her chest, her whole body felt tense and unyielding, her fists clenched at her sides. "You… you could never love him like I did!"

He raises his eyebrows at her in shock and exasperation, "You never let me!" he yelled, "You coddled him so much I couldn't get near! Don't you dare tell me I never loved him. You talk about love, yet now all I feel from you is hate. You've become a bitter, twisted shell, desperately trying to find something to fill it. It's not my shame or guilt you fear Zee, it's your own, because when everyone and everything around you has gone, that's all you'll have left, and it will eat you up inside," he shook his head at her, "…it's already begun."

"No!" Zainab screamed at him, her face contorted, the blood boiling in her veins, the rage she felt shutting out his words, how dare he! She averted her gaze, she couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore, she daren't, she lunged at him, her small fists hammering on his chest, she wanted to make him hurt, make him pay, force him to take the blame for all that had happened. "You're wrong! It's you… I hate you!"

* * *

><p>"I love you."<p>

Syed said the words again, as they lay in bed, quiet and content amidst the residual warmth of their love-making. It was like they'd become his private mantra from him to Christian, but the words alone seemed lacking, like they couldn't possibly convey all that he thought and felt. He gazed at Christian, their bodies touching, legs entwined, Christian's breath against his, noses almost touching. He felt unshed tears shining in his eyes as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

"I love you… beyond words," was all he could say.

Reaching up Christian tenderly stroked back Syed's wayward hair, before his hands came to rest on either side of his face, holding his gaze steady as he looked deeply and devotedly into his eyes. Syed felt himself sinking into his sea green depths.

"What just happened... that was beautiful." Christian breathed, his voice low and velvety, his own tears welling up as his eyes remained locked on Syed's. "_You_ are beautiful Sy."

Christian's head moved forward and he kissed him ever so delicately, his lips lingering on Syed's lips. He felt his tongue brush his and kissed him gently back, savouring the warm taste inside his mouth. He slowly pulled away to look at Syed once more, breathing a deep, blissful sigh, " …so very beautiful."

And in that moment, Syed actually believed him.

"_We_ are beautiful together." Syed said suddenly, self-consciousness rising and making him smile. Christian's lips curved in pleased response, his eyes shining like green jewels.

Syed snuggled down beside him, his head resting on his chest, his fingers curling in Christian's chest hair. He felt the familiar comfort of his protective arms as they slid around him, Christian's fingers affectionately stroking and dancing along the smooth skin of his back.

"Oh… and Sy?" Christian asked casually .

Syed raised his head and looked back up at him questioningly, eyebrows raised.

"I love you too." Christian replied, grinning sheepishly at Syed.

Syed felt like a thousand tiny fireworks were being let off in his heart, and for a moment he swore he could see their light, reflected in the twinkling of Christian's eyes. He laughed softly, before nestling back down into the warmth of Christian's body.

They belonged together, it was simple, Syed knew it, and he knew Christian knew it too. They saw all of each other, every wonder, every treasure, every trait. But also the shadows within, the fears, insecurities, the anger and regret, the hurt, and they loved regardless, because of. They accepted and entrusted, they comforted, supported, and they encouraged. They agreed and they agreed that they were different. In that moment Syed was certain, nothing would come between them, whatever fate threw at them, whatever had and may try to come between them, they could never resist the pull, the connection drawing them back together. Whether it be fate, Allah himself or simply written in the stars, they were meant to be. Christian and Syed.

* * *

><p>"I hate you!"<p>

Zainab pummelled her fists harder against Masood's chest, letting her anger take hold, it enveloped her, attacking that which came too near, hiding that which lay beneath.

"Why do you hate me Zainab?" Masood pleaded, demanded, as he grabbed hold of her wrists. "All I've ever done is love you, but you make it impossible! You used to be so beautiful to me, but you've grown ugly, so ugly and cold!" his face became more infuriated, desperate, as she struggled against his grip.

"Let go of me!" Zainab shrilled, she felt scared, threatened, fearful of what lay within him, of what lay within herself, "Don't touch me! I hate you! You've made me hate you!"

Masood's eyes went dark and unreadable, his voice menacing, "Do you hate that you wanted me Zainab? That I made you feel something, something forbidden? Do you hate that you loved me, bringing shame on yourself, on your community? Or do you hate that I saved you, thought you were worth saving, or do you think that you deserved to die?"

"I don't want to talk about this! Haven't you done enough! Leave me alone!" Zainab cried defensively, angry at the tears that sprung to her eyes, helplessly trying to pull herself away from him.

Masood saw her growing distress and yet still pushed on, "You hated the fear, I know that much, the hopelessness, the helplessness, the feeling that there was no way out, no choice. I gave you that choice Zainab, that way out!"

"No…" Zainab shook her head, vehemently, "No Mas!" she screamed, as she wrenched one wrist free, she wasn't going to let him do this, she couldn't.

"Do you hate that I brought you here, gave you a new life, looked after you, cared for you? Zainab!" he shouted.

Zainab twisted her arm desperately trying to get away, trying to avert her gaze as his face yelled into hers.

"Do you hate that I am your husband?" His questions were left hanging, like still missiles in the air.

Finally Zainab managed to tear herself from Masood's hold, she stepped back and turned away from his fierce, probing eyes, but he didn't relent, "Do you hate that I am your husband instead of him? That I gave you children, wonderful, beautiful children. Do you hate that I am their father?"

Zainab make a start for the door, but Masood ruthlessly grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. She couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her face, she felt like she was crumbling. Everything she'd built up around her for so long was crumbling, and she was sinking so fast with nothing below her, nothing to break her fall, no one to catch her, no one to save her. She silently prayed to Allah, she prayed to Allah to give her strength, to help her, to save her, she prayed for his forgiveness.

"Look at me!" Masood shouted, his fingers digging into Zainab's flesh as she refused, he shook her, demanding her to look up.

She couldn't. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't face him, she couldn't face the truth. If she didn't look, it wouldn't exist.

"Zee, look at me! I said... look at me!" Masood commanded, spitting the words at her.

It was no use. He had her, she'd lost. Her shoulders sagged and her body trembled as she resignedly turned her head and looked up at him, she'd gone. All she'd had, all she'd created, fell away to ash, as she look into his burning eyes.

"Do you hate that I am Syed's father?" Masood yelled at her and she could see the anger, the blame, the fear, the horror in his glaring eyes.

"… or do you hate that I am _not_?"

* * *

><p><strong>Phew! Well, thank you for taking the time to get to the end of this very long chapter! I really appreciate it! <strong>

**I didn't realise it was going to be so long when I started, I just knew that I wanted to do a chapter of two halves, the first half being love and joining together, the second being hate and tearing apart. I took inspiration from the 2nd proposal EE episode where it showed the stark contrast and juxtaposition between Christian & Syed and Zainab & Masood. **

**Plus I wanted to set Syed up in a really happy, contented place in in preparation for the angst that's to come!**

**I thought about splitting it into two separate chapters, but thought that would lessen the impact and spoil the effect I was trying to achieve. Anyway, enough rambling, as if this wasn't long enough! Hope you enjoyed it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Just to let you know, I've done a bit of reworking to the chapters of this story that have been published so far, to change it from the first person to the second person perspective. **

**When I first started this story, it was with very little forethought or planning, I just had the basic idea of what the story would ultimately be about, and it seemed like a good idea at the time to write it from the first person perspective! But as I really thought about what I wanted to do, and how I wanted to write it, drawing up a detailed plan, I realised that it would be very difficult and confusing (through constant swapping of points of view between various characters) to continue like that, so I've now changed all the chapters to a second person perspective.**

**I hope this won't spoil the enjoyment of everyone who has been reading this fic up to now. I really appreciate all your lovely comments and reviews, I hope you stick with it! (and me) as I feel my way through this wonderful new experience and learning curve that is writing fanfic! Well, that's enough rambling for now!**

**Characters below to EE as per usual!**

* * *

><p>Masood glared at Zainab, willing her to respond, willing her to answer. The tears fell silently from her eyes and he relaxed his grip on her shoulders, as he felt his anger diminishing.<p>

"Zainab, please…." he said, his voice softening. "I can't do this anymore, not with Yusef here again, invading our lives. You can't keep this a secret, pretend it's not there. What if someone says something? We need to say something before anyone else does."

Zainab looked up at him, pain and sorrow etched on her face, her bottom lip trembled, and she gave a little shake of her head.

There was the sound of movement overhead, the faint sound of a toddler cry cutting through the silence in the kitchen. The wailing grew louder, nearer, accompanied by steady footfalls.

"Zee!" Masood pushed, knowing the moment was slipping from his grasp.

"There's nothing to say." She spat in a low voice. Their heads both turned towards the door as it opened, and Masood released his hold on Zainab, taking a step back.

Tamwar stood in the door frame, holding little Kamil in his arms. The child's face was red and puffy, his cheeks stained with tear tracks. His big brown eyes wide and searching for his mother. Zainab instinctively went to him with outstretched arms and took him from Tamwar, hugging her youngest tightly to her chest, as he snuggled into her.

"He was crying." Tamwar said, looking from his mother to his father and back again. "I thought I heard raised voices. Mum?" She looked shaken, he realised, and had obviously been crying too. "Dad?" Neither would answer him. Not that he was surprised, he hadn't yet reached the level of supposed adulthood necessary for them to actually tell him what was going on. Even after Kamil was born, he still remained the child in their eyes. But he wasn't a child. Sometimes, he thought, in fact he knew, he had more common sense than the rest of his family put together.

"It's nothing Tamwar." Zainab spoke, her eyes flicking away from his, before they could reveal too much.

She kissed the soft head of black hair against her chest. She felt comfort in the feel of Kamil in her arms, and respite from the thoughts in her head, he was her focus now, this tiny little person who needed her more than anything else in the world. She had to stay strong, for him. He was her reason, she told herself. Her reason to carry on as normal and not let Masood get to her, not let him do what he was trying to do. Why was he doing this to her? After all this time.

It was done, forgotten, was never even real, not part of this life they had created. She couldn't go back there. She looked down at Kamil, then up at Masood, who was staring at her intently, trying to see through her. She hugged Kamil tighter, held him like a shield between them, a shield around her heart, around her mind, Kamil was all she needed to think about right now. She pushed past Tamwar and out of the kitchen.

"You were arguing again." Tamwar said to his father, after his mother had taken Kamil back upstairs. It was a statement of fact, but Masood looked at him blankly, his eyes stern. Tamwar continued, "I live here too, it's not like I don't know what's going on."

Masood looked up at him with questioning surprise.

"I know it's difficult for you dad, with Yusef being around. But you and mum tearing bits of each other isn't going to help. If we could just sit down and talk to each other, as a family. We _are_ still a family, _all_ of us."

"It's not your concern Tamwar. This has got nothing to do with you." Masood replied, his voice short. Had Tam heard something? Did he know something? He felt panicked.

"Then who is it to do with? Your constant arguing, it affects all of us." Tamwar implored.

No, Masood thought, he doesn't know, he couldn't. No one except him and Zainab knew, did they? But for how long? It had been unspoken between them for so long, Zainab had buried it so deep inside, she had almost convinced herself it wasn't real, he knew, it was like she'd left that part of her reality behind in Pakistan. The lies they'd fabricated and spun to people when they moved here, becoming their new truth, setting the foundations for the new life they had built around themselves.

Frustrated at his Father's silence, Tamwar continued, "Last time I looked, I was part of this family too. But then you do seem to pick and choose at will." he said, his voice becoming more animated.

Masood shook his head at him. Syed. Why did it always have to go back to Syed, he thought. He gave him a chance to be part of this family, it was Syed who turned his back on them, not the other way around.

Tamwar's shoulders visibly sunk, as his father remained a closed book before him. As a child he had always thought he knew where he stood with his dad, he was proud, yes, had high morals and expectations yes, but he was predictable, a straight line that could be followed. But now he wondered had he really understood him at all? His treatment of Syed at the fateful night of his engagement to Afia had been unforgivable.

"I'm going to see Syed later." Tamwar said, his eyes gauging for a reaction from Masood. But his face was unreadable, dismissive almost. "He's had his cast removed, did you know that? Seems his broken leg has healed well. Did you even go to see him dad?"

"There was no point." Masood said quickly, too quickly.

"No point? He could have died dad!" Tamwar responded incredulously, "Would you have wanted him to die knowing what the last words you said to him were? Was there nothing, nothing at all you would have wanted to say to him?"

Masood wasn't discussing this with Tamwar. He didn't want to discuss it. To admit what he felt inside about what he'd said to Syed that night, what he'd felt compelled to say, standing in the midst of his family, his community, his beliefs, he'd had to make a stand, he'd had no choice.

Of course it was _his_ doing, _Yusef's_, that Syed had even been there in the first place. What was Yusef playing at? Did he really want Zainab back? What did he know? It wouldn't take long, Yusef was clever, things wouldn't add up, was he already suspicious?

Masood suddenly felt the compelling need to see him, talk to him, yet had really no idea of what he wanted to say, of what he could say. Maybe he would get some clarity, some knowledge that currently escaped him, just by seeing his eyes. Tamwar sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere, and retreated from the doorway. Later that morning, Masood concluded, he would go to see him.

* * *

><p>The noise beat like a drum inside Syed's head.<p>

Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop.

He tried to focus his mind on the words in front of him, squinting his eyes in concentration, but it was no use.

"Christian!" he exclaimed, letting the book fall to his lap, as he sat, legs up on the sofa.

"What?" Christian called out from the kitchen, the knife in his hand, continuing with it's perpetual motion upon the array of fruit laid out in front of him.

Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop.

"Will you quit it with the incessant chopping! I'm trying to read here!" Syed shouted out in exasperation.

Christian stopped mid chop, and turned round to meet Syed's eyes, the knife held aloft in front of him. "I was making us a smoothie, but obviously you don't appreciate my efforts." he said in a mixture of mock outrage and hurt.

Syed rolled his eyes and shook his head at him, "Could you just do it a little quieter, or quicker!", he said lifting his book back up to his face.

Christian let out a huff under his breath, as he turned back to the kitchen counter to finish slicing the fruit, "You're not adverse to a bit of chopping action yourself." he said slyly.

Syed's head spun round again, there was a smile playing on his lips, "Well, I've had a lot of practise."

Grinning, Christian turned back to face him and raised his eyebrows.

"At Masala Queen!" Syed retorted.

"I'll have you know my chopping skills are legendary." Christian said meaningfully.

Syed beamed at him, and giving up on the book, walked over to where Christian was standing. "I'm sure they are." he said knowingly, his eyes dancing flirtatiously with Christian's.

Their reverie was suddenly, rudely interrupted by the noise of the intercom.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

* * *

><p>Yusef watched his reflection in the hallway mirror as he slowly and deliberately straightened his tie. He stared intently at the dark eyes looking back at him, and for a moment saw a flicker of emotion in them. It was like his present, respectable self was looking into the eyes of the past, the past that haunted his nights, and brought him out into a cold sweat as he slept. Quickly his mind focused and calmed, bringing with it a veil of collectedness and inscrutability.<p>

He looked down at his watch, 30 minutes before morning surgery started. His head turned and he glanced up at the sound of the door bell.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for all your story alerts and reviews, please keep them coming!**

**I couldn't for the life of me remember whether Yusef was still living at the B&B or in the flat above the surgery, but for the purpose of this story, it's the latter! (Although I have a sneaky suspicion it should be the former!)**

**I struggled a bit getting this chapter off the ground, but quite pleased with how it turned out in the end. I hope you enjoy it, it is a bit angsty!**

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><p><strong>This chapter continues directly from the last one.<strong>

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Yusef paused for a minute, before taking the few short steps to the door and opening it.

Denise smiled tentatively back at him. "Hi, sorry, I know you've got patients soon…" she paused nervously, "I, um, missed you last night." There was a questioning worry in her brown eyes.

"Denise, I'm so sorry," Yusef said, his voice calm and beguiling. "We were supposed to meet up weren't we? I can only apologise, I got tied up in paperwork, necessary details, you know how it is. I lost track of time."

"Oh, its ok, we never made any specific arrangements, " she chirped, "I just wanted to check, I mean... we could arrange another time?" She felt unsure of herself. Not surprising, considering how her previous relationships had turned out. She liked Yusef, really liked him. He seemed reliable, considerate, a respectable GP. She didn't want to push him, but at the same time, wanted him to know she was serious about him.

He smiled reassuringly at her, "I've got time for a cup of tea now, if you don't have to be somewhere?"

"That would be lovely." she replied, relief and happiness resounding in her voice.

"Please, come in." He stepped back, and with a sweep of his arm beckoned her inside, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek as she went past.

They sat at the small table in the surgery flat, taking it in turns to talk and sip hot brown liquid from white mugs. They exchanged pleasantries and meaningless niceties. Denise found Yusef a bit of an enigma and sometimes hard to read, often having to second guess what was beneath his composed exterior, if there was anything beneath there at all. She was a passionate and determined woman, strong, she'd had to be. The only times she'd seen a slight bubble in his still surface was when faced with the complexities of his beloved daughter Afia, marrying the son of his ex-wife.

"I saw Masood just now." Denise suddenly said, "Unfortunately he didn't see me, nearly knocked me over! Wasn't with it at all, I think Zainab and Afia are probably driving him to distraction with all the wedding talk." She took a mouthful of tea, and looked up at him.

"I think Masood and Zainab have been having a few difficulties of late." Yusef said after a considered pause.

His steady gaze carefully surveyed the woman before him. She was extremely attractive. She had been hurt in the past, he knew, wronged in a most extreme way by someone who supposedly loved her, but she had an inner resolve, and he felt a certain affinity with her. There was a surface level connection between them, that enabled him to feel comfortable with her by his side, and she conveniently provided a diversion, a buffer from hidden intentions. She was useful to him, and worthy of her usefulness.

"Yeah, can't have been easy with what happened at the Arjee Bhajee, and being married to Zainab. Now, that's gotta be difficult!" She suddenly looked aghast, remembering that Yusef knew exactly what it was like being married to Zainab.

She quickly tried to cover herself, "Well, of course I'm no expert in that subject, understatement of the century," She gave a little sigh, an echo of past torment in her eyes.

In his head, Yusef felt a respectful understanding and recognition of who she was, and what she'd lived through, but the feeling never reached his heart. For his heart was locked away deep inside him, and already full of feelings that festered from long ago.

"But they've been married so long now, I'm sure they'll work it out," Denise concluded, "28 years Zainab told me, now that's got to be worth something."

Yusef looked up a little sharply, in contrast to his usual fluid manner. "28 years?" he said, "Yes, now that is something."

* * *

><p>Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz<p>

Syed casually went to the intercom to let whoever it was in, before turning back to Christian, still smiling, images of Christian and him, intimately close, naked and hungry, distracting from present thought.

Christian returned his smile slyly, before slowly turning back to the kitchen counter, where he began sweeping up the pieces of fruit and dropping them into the blender. Syed allowed his gaze a moment to admire the rear view of his lover, before he heard footfalls ascending the stairs and a sharp knock on the door.

Unable to tear his sight completely away from Christian, he absentmindedly opened the door to the flat.

"Hi."

The familiar low tone, made his mind snap into focus and he almost felt his body jump as his head spun around to face it's source. His hand clung onto the edge of the open door, whether for support or as protection, ready to close it quick and shield himself if need be, he wasn't sure.

"Dad?" he said, unable to hide the shock from his voice. What was he doing here? He'd never been here before, to their flat. What did he want? Dare he hope that something had changed, that his dad had actually come to see him, to talk, to accept, to forgive? The thoughts rushed through his head at a million miles an hour, he could feel his chest tighten and his hand start to tremble slightly.

Stop it. Idiot. It won't be that, it couldn't be. Syed's inner voice berated himself. Masood had made his feelings perfectly clear. His father hated him, thought he was a perversion, a disappointment to top all of the disappointments that had gone before. A final, fatalistic disappointment on the shit pile of disappointments and regret that was their relationship.

But Syed couldn't help it, couldn't stop that little jewel of untarnished hope that lay in his heart from rising up and causing tears to well in his eyes. Weak, he thought to himself, angrily, he was being weak.

No, what was he doing, what was _he_ doing to him? The self-depreciating diatribe of words he would silently repeat to himself growing up, and now sometimes still to this day. Words he had heard his father tell him, words he thought filled his father's head when he thought of him. One knock at the door, one look from those serious, concealing eyes and he was reduced to being a child again, pleading for his dad's approval, his attention, his love.

Suddenly, Syed was aware of Christian's large presence by his side, a strong hand resting gently on his arm. The reminder of warm touch and loving heart, of mutual respect and enduring trust, of unyielding support and encouragement, chased the doubting, self abasing commentary from his mind.

No, he wasn't weak, he was the strong one, he had the strength of his heart, of being true to himself, of honesty and conviction. His complex emotions that ran through his veins, that he'd always tried to control, they weren't his failing, they were his strength, the power of compassion, of caring, of consideration. He took a deep breath and his jaw set in a determined line, his eyes became focused and unblinking.

"What do you want?" Syed said, his tone stern, almost accusatory.

Christian watched as Masood's eyes flicked from Syed to himself and back to Syed again. Masood was nervous, Christian realised. Good, he fucking ought to be. He couldn't stop the anger and indignation from swelling in his gut, it bristled the hairs on the back of his neck and made his spine lengthen, his head rose proudly, bringing him up to his full, imposing height. But there were other feelings there too, echoes of fear and helplessness, of hurt and betrayal, feelings that came from his own heart, but also transcended into him from the heart of Syed, the one he loved, the one he would do anything to protect. He laid his hand instinctively on Syed's arm.

"I… I needed to see you, Syed, I.. I don't…" Masood's words faltered, his mind struggled to focus, he felt vulnerable, here on their territory, with Christian shooting daggers at him through his unrelenting gaze, and Syed, the pained emotion and steadfast resilience against the way he had been treated, all too obvious in his eyes.

Masood was used to things being clear in his head, there was right and there was wrong, there were things to be proud of and things to try harder with, to pray for strength to overcome. But then there was Syed and Christian, and what they did. But it wasn't even that which confused his mind and angered his heart.

For deep inside Masood actually knew the truth, that the way Syed was, it wasn't a choice. He knew that there was nothing Syed could have done, could do, to change the fact that he was gay. He didn't like it, wished it had been someone else, anyone but his son, but somehow he had accepted it. He'd said some terrible things in the heat of the moment, under the scrutiny and expectation of others, but in reality he had accepted that Syed was gay. But there was still something niggling away at him.

It was Syed's lies, his deceit, his insubordination, the disgrace he had brought on their family, his selfishness at always putting his own wants before his family, his community, his faith, that had really angered Masood and made him turn his back on him, for what he had thought would be for the last time.

But now here he was, Masood thought, standing on the threshold to their world, Syed and Christian's life together. He had the sudden bizarre notion he was intruding on something, something that was obvious and brazen, yes, as he glanced at the pair of them side by side, but also something estimable, something that had somehow transcended all that it had left in it's wake.

He felt suddenly small, guilty even, for coming here, for disturbing the air that lay between them, all around them, connecting them. And there it was again, that niggling doubt and worry. Yes, he had accepted Syed was gay, but had he ever accepted Syed?

"Can I come in… please?" Masood said, finally breaking the silent tension.

Syed's face softened slightly, his shoulders relaxed, and his arm fell from the door. Stepping back, he slipped one hand into his back pocket, and gestured for Masood to enter with the other.

"Sy…" Christian immediately retorted, his expression still grave, "You know you don't have…"

But Syed interrupted him. "It's ok Christian, I want to hear what he's got to say."

Syed and Masood sat awkwardly on either end of the sofa, the space between them covering more than just a few cushions. The distance stretched into their thoughts, ran hollowly through their shared experiences and enforced separation. It held them apart, a physical force that prevented the normal interaction of father and son, a deep chasm that had started it's split a long time ago, void of affection and understanding, it had now grown so wide, neither of them knew quite how to cross it.

"So, what do you want?" Syed asked bluntly. He didn't offer any pleasantries or ask Masood if he wanted a drink, he owed him nothing and gave nothing. He would hear him out, and then he would ask him to leave, he thought, trying to keep his breath even and his hands steady. He felt Christian sit down quietly on the sofa arm next to him, they shared a quick glance of solidarity, before Syed fixed a steady gaze on Masood.

"I.. just thought I'd see how you were. Your leg..." Masood said, displaying his palms in an apparently open gesture, before locking them together over his knees, his fingers twisting and untwisting together.

Christian gave a quiet guffaw under his breath and shook his head vehemently from side to side. That man was fucking unbelievable, he thought.

"I'm fine. It's fine." Syed replied tersely, eyes on Masood, his expression hostile. "Why do you want to know now? It didn't seem to bother you before."

Masood took a deep intake of breath. "After what happened with the roof… I did try to… I called the hospital."

"That was big of you." Christian said bitterly.

Not liking Christian's tone and interference, Masood composed himself somewhat and spoke directly to Syed, "I'm sorry that you got hurt, Syed."

Syed remained silent, his eyes fixed on his father, trying to read the meaning and hidden truth behind his words. Was he sorry? Why come here today? He felt confused, he didn't understand and was scared to let go of the anger that felt like a shield around him, but the words reverberated around his skull. Yes, hurt he had been, so badly hurt, by everything his father had said and done to him, and everything he hadn't. He felt his assurance shake a little as the emotion that he felt inside threatened to spill out, a forewarning of angry tears made his eyes smart. But before Syed could form any words to speak, a tense and twitching Christian, sat beside him, could contain himself no longer.

The words came pouring out of Christian's mouth in a rampage of fury. "So bloody sorry, that you couldn't get out of there fast enough! So sorry that you left your own flesh and blood, unconscious and bleeding on the floor! And it was through your own fucking hypocrisy that the bloody roof collapsed in the first place!"

Christian was angry, but he wore his anger like a veil, Syed could see the fear in his heart, it was the same fear and desperation he'd seen in Christian's eyes at the hospital, as his lover had sat by his bedside, tenderly stroking his hand and choking back his tears.

Christian stood up, his green eyes flashing at Masood, as his voice bellowed around the room, "You didn't even stop to ask how he was! He could have been dying!"

"Christian…" Syed said quietly, his hand reaching out to touch Christian's arm, in attempt to diffuse and calm him. He understood his lover's anguish, his anger and frustration, he felt those things too, but he didn't want this to turn into a battle of wills, a game born of past resentments and heated insults. He needed to hear the clarity and truth of what lay beneath, he needed to understand, and to do that he needed to hear what his father had to say, what he really wanted to say, beneath the defences and the accusations. This wasn't about absolution and forgiveness for Masood, it was about him, Syed, and his own peace of mind, he needed Christian to let his father speak.

"He was in good company. It wasn't as if I left him alone..." Masood said seriously.

It was meant to almost be a compliment aimed at Christian. Yes, he had left, Masood thought. He'd had to clear the place to avoid anyone else getting hurt and he had called the ambulance. Of course it was Yusef who had told him to leave, that he should get everyone outside and call for help, while Yusef had stayed. But Masood hadn't been able to go back in though, couldn't bring himself to go back in and face up to the reality, he was scared of what he might find and unable to deal with his own guilt. His own failings were all to obvious in the rubble and dust that lay around his feet.

But would Syed have wanted him there anyway? He didn't need him, it was Christian he chose, and it was Christian who was there by his side. Plus, what could he have done? Yusef was on hand to take control and administer any necessary medical attention, conveniently putting himself in the better light as usual. He'd had so much on his mind, it was all such a mess, there was so much to sort out and he hadn't the faintest idea of where to start.

But as Masood looked up into Christian's darkening face, thoughts of his own concerns subsided as he slowly realised the double-meaning of what he had just said, and saw that Christian had realised it too. 'It wasn't as if I left him alone…' He felt a sudden sickening knot of panic in the pit of his stomach. What had he hoped to achieve by coming here anyway? Masood thought anxiously, What was he doing? Feeling the need to get out, he stood up quickly, his gaze desperately trying to avoid Christian's, as the tall man walked forebodingly around the sofa until he was facing Masood.

Masood looked towards Syed, but the young man he saw seemed further away from him than ever before. He had the sudden despairing inclination to reach out and grab Syed by the shoulders, to hold the boy in his arms, to never let him go, like it was his last chance before his son slipped away from him, forever. But he didn't, he couldn't. For that would have been relinquishing control, showing weakness, loss of pride. He would leave, now.

Realising his father was about to leave, and sensing something boiling up inside of Christian, Syed stood up, he didn't want his father to go. The air felt heavy and thick as the three men stood in a triangle of tension. One tall and broad, fists clenched at his sides, threatening to erupt, one shorter and older, eyes darting around, wanting to escape but feeling trapped in this stand off, and finally, one in the middle, unsure, confused, needing to reach out, to close the gap between them all.

"No, because that really would be terrible now, wouldn't it Masood" Christian's cutting voice broke though the heavy silence, but it didn't dispel the tension, it fed it, sent it spiralling to unbearable levels.

Masood stiffened and his body straightened, his head tilting back slightly to meet Christian's gaze, defensive but defiant. He's going to do this Masood, thought. Dredge everything back up. Christian had no right to throw blame and accusations his way, not when he had behaved so shamelessly destructive himself.

Everything that Christian had kept inside for so long came bubbling to the surface, there was only one way for it to go now, and that was out. "You would never leave someone for dead, all on their own, crying out for help, would you Masood?" his voice was rising, his body becoming more animated as his angry words came tumbling out. "How could you walk past another human being like that?" he yelled, "You left me, broken and bleeding on the street, begging you to help me." his voice cracked slightly as the hurt shone through the anger in his eyes. "No matter what had gone on between us, I would have helped you, I would have helped _you_ Masood."

Syed looked up at his lover, his eye's full of concern, his brow creased with worry. He put his hand reassuringly on Christian's arm and spoke intently, "Christian?"

Christian glanced towards Syed, a sad, desperate indignation in his eyes. He turned back to Masood.

"Do you know what it feels like? To have people despise you for who you are, for who you love, to have people want to hurt you, mentally and physically, to crush you, to humiliate you, to have you begging for mercy from them, with only cold, hard hatred in their eyes?" Tears welled up in his pained eyes, "Do you know how scared I was? How helpless?" He was crying now, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, but his voice stayed firm, he was determined to make Masood see.

"What would your God say about that Masood, eh?" His biting words hit Masood full on, "Would he be so quick to judge you, like you make judgements about your son, like you judge me?"

"Christian…" Masood was uncomfortable, he didn't know where to look, he couldn't look Christian in the eye, look his own guilt and his own failure as a human being in the eye. Because of course, he did know to some degree what Christian was talking about, or at least Zainab did, he had rescued her from it, saved her from the horror, it was supposed to be over. At that moment he wished more than anything that things could have been different. "I made a mistake," he conceded, "It was a spur of the moment reaction in the middle of a crisis, it was difficult for us all, we all suffered, no one came out of it unscathed, no one was totally blameless. I admit, it was wrong and I'm sorry for it."

"Was that an apology?" Christian challenged, eyebrows raised, "Because it didn't feel much like an apology, more like an excuse."

Masood started to feel defensive, he'd apologised hadn't he? What did Christian want? Blood? He felt angry at Christian for making him feel like this, for putting him in this position in the first place, for dragging it into the present, as if he didn't have enough on his mind at the moment. It was Christian that had lead him to do what he did in the first place.

"If you like." Masood said, "I'm sorry, _ok_? I'm sorry for not calling for help." His eyes steadied and settled on Christian's face, he took a depth breath and his chest expanded, his stance shifted.

"But really, in the grand scheme of things…" he continued, his voice getting more venomous, "In the continual torrent of lies and deceit, of shame and humiliation that you inflicted upon my family, well, like I said, no one came out of this smelling of roses, and certainly not you."

Christian shook his head and gave a sarcastic laugh, he knew it was too good to be true. He looked back at Masood and could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Masood's dark eyes opened wide at the sound of Christian's mocking mirth, his anger exploding as he shouted, "You relished it, admit it! You enjoyed winding us up, pushing us to see how far we'd go! You did everything for effect, Christian!"

He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice, "You set out to destroy everything we had the minute you set foot in our house that day, you ripped Amira apart, took away any dignity she may have been able to salvage. You made sure nothing would be left untouched by the shame you brought on our family… our friends, our community, our business, everything, all of it, forever tainted."

As the words Christian and Masood had held back for so long came pouring out, Syed had remained in agitated silence between them, feeling the unstoppable power of the past that still haunted them, haunted him, the unresolved hurt, blame and guilt. Conflicting emotions confused his thoughts, choked any words that formed in his throat. But with every word of abuse his father hurled at Christian, Syed's breath quickened and his pulse increased, until he could hear it pounding in his ears along with each word of blame directed at Christian that rang through his head. It cleared the fog of indecisiveness and sent a wave of clarity and strength though his heart.

Syed suddenly turned on his father, his normally quiet unassuming voice, shouting in outrage, "Don't you dare put the blame on Christian in all of this! None of it was Christian's idea, he wanted me to end it with Amira, out of everyone, me, mum, _you_ included, _he_ was the one who wanted to be honest, to tell the truth! Whatever he did we drove him to it!" He glared at his father's shocked face, pausing for breath, unable once more to stop the tears from welling in his eyes. Tears that seemed to represent the powerful emotions that he often tried to keep inside, but in their intensity could not be contained, the emotion and the tears would always come spilling out in the end.

"He's not who you think he is Dad." Syed continued, his voice quieter, but just as emotive, "He's suffered so much Dad, I hurt him so badly."

"Sy…" Christian tried to interrupt, but Syed carried on regardless.

"We hurt him. It's us Dad! Our family! As Tam would say, our dysfunctional, hypocritical, psycho family! Well, I've had enough! I'm bloody sick of it, up to here with it!" He waved his hand above his head for emphasis. "I feel like I can't breath!" he spat, "I.. I need to move on, _you_ need to move on, otherwise… that's it! Finished, we're finished!" He sighed and the anger seemed to drain out of him along with his breath, leaving a irrefutable sadness in it's wake. "You very kindly pointed out that I'm not your son, well, this it for me, Dad."

Syed looked at his father, there was a hollowness, an emptiness in his familiar eyes, but something was there laying hidden just beneath surface, something obvious but unfathomable at the same time. They were eyes Syed had looked into many times before, as a frightened and needy child, as a confused and desperate young man, and now here today, at what felt like a bridge, a turning point in their lives that would lead them towards a future that would be at least partly shared, or see them forever be disconnected and apart.

Masood was unresponsive, seemingly battling his own inner self. Syed carried on, his voice dejected and resigned, "Look, we either try to build something new from this, or… I'm sorry, but you are not my father."

Syed watched, confused, as moisture glazed over the darkness of his father's eyes, and a solitary tear fell from the corner of his eye. Masood's hand reached up and hovered at Syed's cheek. "Syed..." he said brokenly, before his hand dropped away, "I'm sorry, I really am." and with that he turned, his eyes flicking to Christian's in an acknowledgement and appeal that Christian didn't fully understand, before quickly heading to the door.

"Dad!" Syed called, not able to hide the puzzlement and panic from his voice, "Wait…" he took a step forward.

Christian grabbed Syed's hand, "Sy please…just let him go."

Syed looked up into his lovers anguished eyes and tear stained face, he could feel him trembling slightly through their touch. Reaching up, he put his hand on the back of Christian's neck and pulled him down until their foreheads touched, in a moment of intimate intensity. The deep tide of their breathing seemed to form a matching current between them. "A minute Christian, I just need a minute… I'm not going anywhere, I promise." Syed whispered sincerely. He looked up and his own tear filled eyes locked with Christian's briefly, before he pulled away and ran after Masood.

He caught him at the bottom of the stairs leading from the flat, his hand on the open door, the cool breeze from Turpin Road beckoning beyond. "Dad…" Syed called.

Masood stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. As Syed took the last few steps towards him, Masood's eyes were drawn to his face, the face of the man Syed had become. He found himself searching his features, the strong line of his nose, the curve of his lips, the wide, gentle pleading eyes that hadn't changed, he could see them in his memory, as vivid as they were looking back at him today. He desperately looked for an answer, for a recognition of familiarity in his features. He saw Zainab in the smooth skin of Syed's forehead, in the angle of his cheek, but what else? Who else? Was _he_ there, Yusef, in the tone of his skin, the set of his eyes? He frantically looked for something of himself, but could see nothing, he felt blinded by his own guilt and fear.

Syed didn't understand. He didn't know why Masood was looking at him the way he was, he looked so lost, so scared, so unsure of himself. So unlike the father that Syed knew, or thought he knew. He could see disappointment in his eyes, was it for him? Had he disappointed his father yet again? "What is it Dad?" he said softly, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Masood looked at Syed intently, his silence full of considered thought and un-reconciled emotions. Finally he spoke.

"I've always loved you. No one can take that away."

Syed was left in shocked surrender, as he watched Masood turn and walk away, a solemn, solitary figure disappearing around the corner and out of view.

Christian folded his arms in front of his body and closed his eyes as he tried to control his ragged breathing. Seeing Masood, here in the place where the attack happened, talking about how it felt, it had brought it all flooding back to him. He couldn't stop shaking, as he had shaken with fear as they had blocked his way, preventing his escape. He could almost taste the blood in his mouth, feel the savage blows to his body, the brutal grip on his arms holding him in place, making him face their hatred, their bitterness, their bigotry.

Where is Sy? He thought. As he had thought that day, when they had demanded to know where his lover was, the silent threat of what they would do to Syed if they found him unmistakable in the unflinching, cold intent of their eyes. He felt his own resolve to protect Syed, protect the one he loved more than anybody or anything else in the world, from those that seemed set on hurting him, crushing his gentle, but spirited soul. The irony that someone like Syed, someone so intrinsically good, could arise so much hatred from others never failed to astound him. But where was he, was he ok? Where was Syed when he needed him?

And then he was there. As if he had heard Christian's need straight from his heart. Christian felt the heat from Syed's body next to his, the warmth of his hands as he cupped his face and tenderly wiped away the tears that Christian knew were rolling down his face. Christian let out a huge sigh, only then realising he had been holding his breath, as he felt Syed's arms encircle him in a comforting embrace. He dropped his head onto Syed's shoulder and felt Syed arms pull tighter around him, holding him close.

"It's ok, " Syed soothed reassuringly, stroking his back. "Christian, you're alright. I'm sorry, I'm here. Please don't cry…"

Christian looked up and opened his eyes, he was met by the beautiful loving eyes of the one person he needed more than anyone. They were clouded with worry and concern, tears glistening on their shiny surface. And there was something else, Christian saw, something that saddened them and filled them with anguish. Guilt.

Christian offered a fond smile, his eyes looking adoringly into Syed's, "I'm ok Sy, it's all ok now. I have you." He reached up and affectionately stroked Syed's soft dark hair back from his face.

"I love you." Christian said earnestly, "…and you have nothing to feel guilty about, you hear me? You have done nothing wrong. You just fell in love." Syed looked up at him gravely, and Christian wished he could take the torment of the past from those beautiful eyes, see them light up and twinkle with the glorious spirit that lay within. "Well," he sighed, his smile broadening, his green eyes flashing with a lovable mischief. "This is _me_ we're talking about, I mean, who could blame you, for falling in love with me."

Syed bit his bottom lip but was unable to contain the smile that spread across his face. He shook his head in mock exasperation, "Didn't stand a chance, did I?" he said, and reaching up, pressed his lips against Christian's, savouring the sweet salty taste in a gentle, loving kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**This is a reflective chapter, where not a lot actually happens! (sorry, if it's not very interesting!)**

**The scene that plays out was originally just going to be a little lead into the rest of the chapter, but it got longer and longer and seemed to become a chapter in itself! So I thought I'd leave the other part until the next chapter, and so as not to spoil the restful mood.**

**Thank you to _Indehed_ for the Emmerdale/Danny Miller idea and to _WFCTGIO_ for the other TV show ideas that will find their way into a channel hopping fic soon!**

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><p>Christian let himself into the flat, his eyes immediately spotting the head of dark bushy hair above the back of the sofa. The blinds were closed, with the only light coming from the bright glow of the TV screen as it cast flickering shadows across the floor. The volume on the television was turned so low it was barely audible, and the angle of Syed's head suggested he wasn't watching it at all.<p>

It was late evening and Christian had just finished a bout of training sessions with a couple of city clients, he'd showered and changed at the gym, in case Syed was already asleep by the time he got home. Thinking Syed must have fallen asleep watching TV, he quietly set his gym bag down on the floor and softly walked around the sofa, intending to gently rouse his lover and put him to bed if need be. It had only been a couple of days since Masood had called by the flat, and Christian knew that seeing his father again, and the difficult words that had been exchanged, had affected Syed more than he was letting on. It had been bad enough with Zainab crawling her way back, one minute clinging onto his hand, the next pushing him away again, but now here they both were, stirring up old insecurities, frustration and doubt. Not to do with _him,_ or what they had, Christian knew that much, but to do with Syed himself and his shared history with his parents.

Christian could see it in the way Syed tossed and turned at night, struggling to find peace as his thoughts played unhindered in his sleep freed mind. Every so often, an involuntary movement or perhaps a thought even his unconscious mind didn't want to contemplate, would cause him to stir into near wakefulness and he would snuggle close into Christian's warmth before drifting off again.

Syed's immediate concern after Masood's visit had been for Christian, to be strong for him, to let him know he was there for him, as he hadn't been able to be at the time of Qadim's attack. But as Christian's emotions had been soothed by Syed's warm embracing arms, the sweet tones of his gentle voice and the tender caress of his kisses, he felt that at long last he was able to let go of the last remaining fear and anguish from all that time ago. Challenging Masood, the one who could have helped him but didn't, and speaking the painful thoughts out loud had been a cathartic experience for Christian. He'd even managed to get somewhat of an apology from Masood, not perfect, but it was probably the best he was going to get, and he felt some resolution to what had happened. He'd never forget it, but he could move on.

Move on. That's what Syed had said to his father, that he wanted them to move on. But Christian knew Syed hadn't got the resolution he wanted, that he deserved. If anything, seeing his father again, after all this time apart had only served to confuse him more, to stir up all the thoughts and feelings that had been allowed to lay dormant, while Syed had settled into his new life with him, their own perfect bubble. And settled in he had, finally allowing himself to be who he really was. Christian had watched him blossom and grow, like a flower that had been denied sunlight for too long, the transformation had taken time, but it was remarkable in it's revolution.

He was still Syed of course, with all the nuances and delicacies that made him who he was, but somehow he had transpired to just become _more_. It was like before, he was just a ghost of himself, grey and ashen, with only brief glimpses of the brightness of colour that lay within. Glimpses that only Christian would see, that Syed would let him see, in their stolen moments together. The brilliant flash of a smile that glowed from somewhere within him, the intense look in his eyes that opened up to show the deep emotion within, the intimate, burning touch of his hand, belying the fiery passion that ran through his veins.

But now, Christian wasn't the only person privy to the real Syed. He saw it in the way Syed laughed and bonded with Tanya in the salon, in the way he quietly and confidently took pride in his work, in the way he'd engage in silly relaxed banter with the regulars in the Vic, the way he'd lean into Christian as they sat snuggled in a corner of the pub. Christian saw it in the way Syed would casually, but affectionately put his arm around him at R n R, his honey-brown eyes looking up lovingly, flirtatiously into Christian's, his broad, gorgeous smile, absolute in it's genuineness.

He was happy. This was not a mask, this was Syed, the real Syed. And even in R n R, in a room full of people, with artificial lights blazing, music blaring, people animated, their tongues and movements loosened by alcohol and a sense of revelry. Even amongst bodies adorned by precious metal shining, glitter and sequins sparkling, to Christian, Syed was always the brightest and most colourful thing in the room, he outshone them all, he was Syed, his true self, his total self, and he was glorious in his uniqueness.

Knowing this, it pained Christian to see the worry and frown lines crease his smooth brow once again. The ghostly remains of his past life causing shadows in those sparkling eyes. Things had reached a state of limbo with his parents, a cyclic dance, that had no end in sight, it was wearing him down, wearing him out, Christian could see it.

Of course, Tam had been a hero in all of this. At least Syed had the unwavering and steady support of his brother, who visited and stayed in contact regularly, for this Christian was grateful. But Syed needed his own form of resolution with his parents, at some point something had to give, _someone_ had to give, so that they could all let go, move on. He just hoped that _someone_ was the people that started this in the first place, that caused the shadows in those beautiful brown eyes, he just hoped that the person to break wasn't Syed. Not after everything he'd been through, everything they'd been through, how far they'd come, to get to this point.

He could almost see the grey clouds swirling just over the horizon, the smell of a storm brewing hung like stagnant droplets in the air, he could almost feel them against his skin, taste the stale bitterness on his tongue. But they were strong and united. They had each other. He was confidant, they could get through this and come out the other side, all the nightmare, and haunting memories of the past, the _guilt_, finally laid to rest, for both of them, for good.

As Christian moved between the TV and Syed, he realised that his young lover hadn't been asleep afterall. His eyes were heavy and glazed, staring intently into his own inner world , lost in his own thoughts, in his past, blind to the present around him.

"Hey," Christian said, trying to sound cheerful, to bring Syed back to him, back to them, back to now. Syed looked up, slightly startled, and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh... Hey, sorry, I never heard you come in." Syed said apologetically, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

Christian bent down and placed a kiss into the soft hair on top of his head. "Sleepyhead." he teased gently, "What you doing sitting here in the dark anyway? Watching…" Christianed glanced back at the TV, "Emmerdale?" he looked at Syed, smiling, eyebrows raised. "You're not sitting here fantasizing about Danny Miller are you?" Christian teased.

"I.. I wasn't really watching…" Syed replied a little too quickly, before smirking and rolling his eyes at Christian's facetious expression. He picked up the remote that sat idly next to him and switched the TV off, immediately plunging the room into near darkness.

"It's ok," Christian sighed as he eased himself down next to Syed, the energy seeming to drain out of his aching muscles as he laid back against the sofa and slid an arm behind Syed, drawing him near. Immediately Syed snuggled into his side, his head fell gently onto Christian's chest and he drew his knees up until he was curled up tightly like a small child against Christian's large frame. Christian wrapped his arms protectively around Syed and tilted his head until his temple made contact with the top of Syed's head, and he nestled into the soft strands of raven hair, as if he could transpose all of the thoughts and worries from Syed's mind into his own.

They sat entwined together in the dusky twilight, eyes closed, silent except for the gentle rise and fall of their steady breaths. Their inner souls connected and soothed by the warmth and comfort of their bodies held together in their tender embrace. Christian could feel the heavy blanket of sleep muffling his thoughts, his waking mind retreating into a peaceful place, where his subconscious lay cushioned in the knowledge that he wasn't alone, he would never be alone again. The love that enveloped them, that breathed life into their two bodies, their two souls, was so instinctive, so consuming and so enduring, that he knew no matter what happened it would not change, he would never not feel it.

Christian felt himself drift in and out of consciousness, aware of the weight and heat of Syed's relaxed muscles and softened limbs draped over him, and the deep steady rhythm of his sleeping breaths. A dull ache began to seep into his lower back from the confines and angles of the sofa, they niggled into his dozing state, bringing his thinking mind back to the surface.

"Sy…" he whispered gently, stroking the curtain of dark tendrils back from his lovers face.

"Mmmm…" Syed sighed and stirred lightly, nuzzling further against the warmth of Christian, before easing back into the gentle stillness of sleep.

"Hey… sleeping beauty," Christian's velvety voice breathed into Syed's hair, and his fingers gently traced a path along his arm in an attempt to rouse him, but Syed showed no signs of disturbing his idle slumber.

Christian, in his contentment, considered simply letting them stay huddled where they were, until the morning light broke through the blinds and into the shadows. But his muscles feebly protested and he knew Syed's mind and body was in need of a more nourishing sleep than the uncompromising sofa could give him.

So resolutely, Christian gently but firmly slid one arm behind Syed's knees, and with the other holding him to his chest, he lifted the smaller man and stood up in one fluid movement. Syed murmured quietly as Christian carried him over to the bed and gently laid him down, sliding off his jeans and pulling the duvet up around him, before taking off his own clothes and climbing into the softness beside him.

It wasn't long before they fell into the soft net of slumber, finding each other again in their dreams.


	10. Chapter 10

**I struggled quite a bit with Tam's dialogue and way of thinking in this chapter, I was trying to make it funny in Tam's unique way, but I'm not sure if it really works in translation! However I'll tweak it to death if I don't post it, so I'll just get it out the way and move on to the next chapter!**

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><p>Syed walked confidently down Turpin Road on his way to work at the salon, he had a full list of clients today. As he passed the war memorial he caught sight of Tam &amp; Afia, probably on their way to the Argee Bhajee, he thought.<p>

"Tam!" he called out good-naturedly, half-jogging over to his brother. His brother was the one member of his family who had consistently stood by him, who had even accepted him before he had accepted himself. In some ways Tamwar was still very young and inexperienced, yet he had a reason, an insight and a sense of what was right and wrong that went beyond his tender years.

"Syed." Tam said in his monotone voice, a lopsided smirk breaking up his serious face. Afia smiled a greeting beside him.

"Hi." Syed looked from his brother to his young wife and back again. It was still hard to believe they were actually married. It was still a closely guarded secret of course, Tam's hand had been pushed by the failings of their parents yet again. He looked weary, Syed thought, he knew Tamwar didn't like lying to their parents. Lying didn't come as naturally to Tamwar as it had to Syed, after having to hide who he was for all those years, but now even his little brother had somehow found himself entangled in their family's continual web of lies and deceit. He couldn't help but feel the familiar pangs of guilt eating away at him. Was he partly to blame for Tam ending up in the position he was in? It had been hard for Tam, living with the day to day results of the turmoil Syed had brought upon their family.

"So, how does it feel?" Tamwar asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly at Syed, "Your temporary state of one-leggedness, now back to it's normal state of bi-leggedness?" Then he suddenly got that embarrassed comical expression on his face, caused by a seemingly contradicting concoction of confuzzlement and over-thinking. "Er... not that I mean that you are in any way _bi,_ of course, I was just referring to the fact that you are now back to being a a fully fledged bipod, you know, completely homo erectus."

His words fell like a dead weight, and his eyes suddenly widened in the bemused silence that ensued, "No!, that's not what I meant… I mean now that you, your leg, is set... straight." he faltered once more and gave an aghast grimace.

Afia rolled her eyes at him, "Oh Tam, shut up!" she blurted, shaking her head in mock exasperation, but she couldn't stifle her smile.

Syed laughed, "It's alright Tam, I know what you mean… I think, and thanks."

"Yeah." Tam said, like he knew exactly what he was saying, before looking confused again, "What for?" he asked.

Syed looked at him, a history of words, of feelings, of support and understanding conveyed in his eyes.

"You know... Everything."

Tam's expression took on a seriousness, a resolute clarity and certainty, he nodded his acknowledgement.

"How are you two holding up?" Syed asked, looking towards Afia.

"Oh it's great, must be the only newly weds still in single beds, planning for a wedding that's already taken place, and with families that make the Montagues and the Capulets look like the Waltons." She drolled dramatically, before grabbing Tamwar's arm, "C'mon Tam, we'll miss the delivery at the restaurant," she pulled him by the arm in an attempt to drag him away.

"Things can work out in the end, no matter how bad they seem at the time." Syed said with a reassuring knowledge, looking across to his little brother. Tam looked back at him and gave a small half smile.

Then there was the sound of footfalls, and a tall shadow suddenly loomed over them, a smooth voice interrupting, "Hello."

Syed glanced up apprehensively to see Yusef. He didn't trust the man after he had lied about his parents wanting him at Tamwar's engagement party, but it was more than that, he knew his father didn't trust him either, there was still a question mark over his part in the fire all those years ago, and in the way he had wheedled his way back into their lives, so easily and yet so completely. Syed was also concerned for his brother, Tam was a part of Yusef's family now, how would Yusef react when he inevitably discovered that he and his daughter were already married? He seemed such an unknown quantity. There was something about him that unsettled Syed, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. It was like it was there, lurking round a corner, it's presence felt, but out of sight.

"Dad!" Afia exclaimed, a little too loudly, had her father heard what she'd said? He bent down and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, his eyes softening, as they always seemed to when he saw her. His face broke into a relaxed smile, no, she thought, everything was ok, for now. But how long could they keep this up?

"Mr. Khan," Tam said formerly, he shuffled his feet slightly and looked away, trying to hide the nervous guilt he always felt in Yusef's presence. He felt uneasy lying to him, he was his father-in-law after all, he'd taken his little girl and yet Yusef didn't even know it. "I'm sorry, I've got to go, we're expecting a delivery at the restaurant any minute." Tamwar said hurriedly, Afia looked up at him, "It's ok," he said to her, "Meet me there," he bent down to kiss her, hesitating, feeling uncomfortable under Yusef's gaze, before giving her a chaste peck on the temple. He gave Syed a farewell nod and smile, before rushing off in the direction of the Argee Bhajee.

Yusef turned his beguiling smile to Syed, his unyielding eyes intently searching Syed's, as if silently trying to bend him to his will. "Syed, how are you?" he asked in all genuineness, but Syed frowned, and couldn't escape the feeling that Yusef's calming voice was lulling them all into a false sense of security, of trust.

"I'm Fine." Syed said brusquely, "I have to go to work," and with that he put his head down and headed off to Booty.

Yusef thoughtfully watched Syed's retreating from, "Family should stick together..." he said to Afia, but only when Syed was out of sight did his eyes turn back to his daughter, "It's good Tam has his brother around, especially when Zainab and Masood are having difficulties. For Syed too, must have been terrible being cast out by his family like that."

"They do seem close," Afia pondered, "Syed, and Christian, have always been supportive of me and Tam." she smiled innocently up at her father.

"You should encourage that bond, for Tamwar's sake." Yusef continued, his eyes carefully surveying Afia's face. "It can't have been easy for Tamwar, trying to keep in contact with his brother, despite his parents reluctance."

"You're right, I think Tam missed him terribly, especially in the beginning, and even now, it can still be awkward. Maybe I could arrange for them to spend some quality time together?" Afia asked her father, he always seemed to know just what people needed she thought, was always trying to put things right.

"How about dinner?" Yusef suggested, his eyes showing his pleasure, "You and Tamwar, Syed and Christian. I'm sure Tamwar would really appreciate you making the effort for him."

"Oh that sounds great, Tam would love it.. " Afia smiled, "But after we've taken the delivery, I'll be running errands for the restaurant all day, won't be back until 6 at the earliest."

"Don't worry, I'll book it for you, table for four, 7pm, at Elliott's, the new place off the high street, all you have to do is show up when you've finished for the day." Yusef gave a considered pause before continuing, "But you needn't mention my involvement, the credit should fall to you my dear, after all it was your idea really, wasn't it?" Yusef said altruistically.

"Oh would you!" Afia gushed, throwing her arms around her father, "Thanks so much dad, you're so thoughtful! I'll go and tell Tam now…"

"Hold on.." Yusef interrupted, "Maybe you could make it even more special for Tamwar by not mentioning that Syed will be there too, imagine what a lovely surprise it would be…"

"Yes! That would make it even more memorable, I can't wait to see Tamwar's face! For now.. I'll just tell him it's me and him, yeh?" She squealed in excitement as she reached up and kissed her father on the cheek, before skipping off to tell Tam that they had a date tonight.

Yusef smiled to himself, his eyes cool and calculating as he watched his daughter bounce off in the direction on the Argee Bhajee.

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><p>During his lunch break from the surgery, Yusef walked purposefully past the playground, under the bridge and onto George Street. He stood outside the Argee Bhajee, and as he went to open the door was met by Tamwar.<p>

"Oh, Afia's not here," Tamwar said and then started rambling to cover his awkwardness, which only made him look even more awkward, "She's visiting suppliers and goodness knows what else all day, whizzing around on that moped of hers…"

"It's ok, I've spoken to her." Yusef said matter-of-factly, "I came to see you."

"Oh?" Tamwar was suddenly lost for words and raised his eyebrows at Yusef. Why did he want to see him? Did he know something? Had he come to exact his revenge by dissecting him, and performing needless and endless medical procedures on him using the contents of his General Practioners medical bag? Tamwar glanced down. No, he didn't have his bag with him, at least that was something.

"Yes. Afia told me the two of you are going out for dinner tonight." Yusef stated.

Tamwar nodded his reply, was Yusef keeping tabs on them now? Let's hope he didn't want a step by step detailed account of everything they got up too, starters, main course and dessert. But of course they were a married couple, Tamwar told himself, it was perfectly natural, perfectly normal, for them to get up to the things married couples got up to, natural for them of course, not for Afia's father, to know the details, to know the ins and outs of their relationship. Stop. Breathe Tamwar, he told himself, feeling a warm heat colour his cheeks.

Yusef's intense gaze bore into Tamwar as he continued in his smooth tone, "She didn't have time to tell you herself, but she has been thinking and thought it would be nice if you invited your parents along to join in too."

Tamwar looked a bit taken aback "Really?" he exclaimed, an unwelcome image of his parents inbetween him and Afia entering his head, before he quickly chased it away and composed himself again.

"Afia is going to be part of your family soon, Tamwar." Yusef continued in his reasoned and rational manner, "She still has concerns about whether your parents have truly accepted her. She wants to get to know them better, let them see her for the genuine, sweet girl she is. It would mean a lot to her, help to allay her fears a little bit." His melodic words washed over Tamwar, heavy with meaning and persuasion, "She's going to book the table for four, she wants you to invite your parents personally. You'll do this for her won't you Tamwar? She is your future wife and their future daughter-in-law after all."

"Er… yeah, of course." Tamwar replied, how could he not? The idea of being in the same room as his warring parents was not exactly a joyous prospect, he'd rather spend the time alone with Afia, but if that is what she wanted, what she needed, how could he refuse?

"Excellent." Yusef said in self-satisfaction. "That's everything sorted then. Tonight, 7pm" he couldn't stop the sly smile from crossing his lips as he walked away.

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><p>Christian came home to the flat to find Syed putting on his smart black shirt.<p>

"What you getting all dressed up for?" he asked surprised, tossing his keys into the fruit bowl, before smooching over to Syed, his eyes lasciviously drinking in the sight of his lover. As he drew near, his arms slid around Syed's waist and he pulled him towards him, heat passing from one body to the other one, pressed tightly against it. Christian leant it, his breath brushing across Syed's cheek before he purred into his ear, "You'll only have to take it off again." his voice was low and suggestive.

"Hey, there'll be none of that!" Syed chastised, but his lips broke into a grin and his eyes lit up with a youthful excitement. "Afia called," he said brightly, whilst extraditing himself from Christian's embrace. "We've been invited out to dinner tonight at that new place, Elliott's, near the high street, the four of us. We have to be there at 7pm, so you better get a move on…"

Christian gave an outward groan, but was secretly happy at seeing Syed so exuberant at spending some time with his brother. It was what normal families did after all wasn't it? Spending time together, going out together, chatting in a relaxed and informal way, having a laugh, enjoying each other's company. Syed hadn't had that for so long.

"You could have warned me," Christian frowned, "I mean, I like your brother, but he can come over like a cross between Lurch and Carol Vorderman."

"What?" Syed guffawed, and desperately tried to stifle his laughter.

Christian grinned, "And you said yourself, Afia's a chav."

"Aaaw, she kind of grows on you." Syed relented.

"Yeah, like a contagious disease." Christian smirked.

"Christian!" Syed berated, and gave him a playful thump on the arm.

"Ok, ok, I'm joking! I like them, I really do. The way Tam stood up for you, for _us_, at his engagement party… he was, amazing." Christian reached out and ran stroking fingers down Syed's arm, there was a sadness in his face, as he looked into Syed's eyes. Syed smiled gratefully at him, his ease of manner reassuring Christian and his face brightened.

"I love how you've still got that family connection," Christian enthused heartily, "And now Afia too… why, our family's just getting bigger every day!" he teased, but there was a truth in his words, and they grinned at each other.

Our family. Syed smiled, his eyes trawling lovingly over Christian's cheerful, optimistic face. They were a family.

Christian glanced down at his watch, "Seven, you say? Ages yet." he looked up mischievously, his eyes playing their own private game with Syed's.

"You need to get ready!" Syed intoned seriously, but his eyes told another story.

"I can be be ready in 20 minutes." Christian informed him, "Taking into account the time to get there… that gives us precisely…" he paused in exaggerated thought, "18 minutes and 24 seconds of time to kill."

"That accurate eh? Well, what can we do in 18 minutes, 24 seconds?" Syed played along.

"You'd be surprised." Christians voice lowered again.

"Well, whatever we do, we better hurry up and get started, we've now got…" Syed looked at his own watch in an dramatic fashion, "17 minutes 31 seconds left."

"In that case..." Christian said huskily, his arms finding their way around Syed again, snaking around his back, pulling him in. Christian's head tilted into the warm crook of Syed's neck, and his lips found the smooth curve of skin hidden there.

Syed let out a small sigh and leant into Christian as he felt his warm mouth sucking against his skin, moist air and wet tongue gently caressing, hard, blunt teeth, nipping and teasing, sending shivers down his spine. He slipped his hands round Christian's waist and let them slide down to cup his arse, eager fingers squeezing and pulling Christian towards him, his own groin pushing forward until they were pressed together, he could feel Christian's growing hardness against him.

Christian let out a low moan and rubbed himself against Syed, the friction causing shocks of pleasure and a rush of blood to his nether regions. His lips quickly found Syed's in an urgent need, and they shared a long, breathless kiss, tongue wrapping around tongue, driving deeply into the warm wetness of welcoming mouths.

They parted for air, the sound of deep gasps and beating hearts in their ears. Christian bit his lower lip, and smiled seductively, his face a picture of pure wanton wickedness. He peered round Syed and looked at his watch again, "Right… 13 minutes and counting…" he said with a glib smugness and unspoken demand.

Syed laughed, and reached between them, pulling down Christian's tracksuit bottoms, "We better make it quick then," he chuckled breathlessly. Their movements soon became a frantic blur of hands pulling at clothes, frenzied fingers grasping thrusting need and demanding lips crushing open mouths. Until finally, the spiralling sensations reached their dizzying crescendo and erupted in a fountain of stars and shooting sparks that left them reeling and clinging on to each other for support. Their legs almost giving way as if the shuddering shocks were coming from the very foundations beneath their feet.

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><p>Syed walked out into the stairwell, closely followed by Christian, his hair still damp from his hasty shower. He closed and locked the door to their flat behind him, before raising his wrist to look at his watch and tapping the glass face lightly with his index finger. "5 seconds to spare!" he announced proudly, grinning from ear to ear. Whilst Syed looked up at him belligerently, but there was a tell-tale twinkle in his eyes.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for all your reviews and story alerts so far! They are all appreciated :)**

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><p>"Table for seven, Khan." Yusef stated to the front of house man inside the door at Elliott's, and was led to a secluded section near the back of the restaurant, just as he had requested. Heavy antique and vintage furniture, rich décor and low lighting created an enveloping ambience of timeless history, a dark and intimate setting, a capsule where the sharp lines and harsh lights of modern life were but a memory of the future.<p>

He was early, he had wanted to arrive before anyone else, make sure everything was under control and as it should be. He looked at his watch, and then surveyed the large wooden table before him, the dark grains splintering and bleeding into the richness of the timbre. Indentations and scratches marked its surface, each telling an unknown tale of its history and the people who had sat there, in other places, other times. The table was set back in an alcove, walls encroaching on 3 sides, 3 seats along the far side, 3 on the near and a single chair at the head, the other end open to allow access to the seating at the back. He declined a drink, said he would wait until the others in his party arrived.

Yes, he would wait. Wait calmly and patiently for it all to begin. When he had come to Walford he hadn't been entirely sure of what he would find there, his history was there now, but also his future, a future he had planned out in his head, during the many sleepless nights where he'd lain awake in the darkness, only his own thoughts and residue nightmares keeping him company. Scenarios had played out as images inside his skull, what should have happened all those years ago in Pakistan, what would happen here in Walford, London, what will happen to put things right, to return things to where they should be. Things he would make happen, to make his future his own, as his past had been taken so ruthlessly from him. But there had been uncertainties, unknown quantities, lies and deceit that were still preventing him from taking control of his nightmares, from taking control of his life. They were still mocking him, playing him, trying to take what was his, still, after all this time. He still didn't have it, have them, in completeness, they still had some power over him, a control that he had to take back, take back what was rightfully his, what he deserved, what he should have had.

He sat down on the first seat at the back of the table, so he could see those who would arrive soon, like he had planned. His exterior was mellow and poised but he couldn't deny there was a flutter in his stomach. A flutter of excitement, and of uncertainty of what would unfold. He could predict and plan through careful observation and consideration, but there was always that erratic nature of raw emotion, of denial and outrage, fear and despair, and yes, love, and want, and need. You could never foresee how a person would react when confronted with the very things that drove them, that made them who they are, when you challenged their very being.

And then he saw her, on the peripheral of his vision. Afia, his daughter. The one who kept his heart beating, his blood warm. She flounced towards where he was sitting, long dark hair framing her face in waves. He set a smile on his lips, a greeting in his eyes and waited for her to notice him.

She'd come straight here, due to lack of time, and there had seemed no point in going home first. Afia made her way to the table she had been directed to, looking forward to seeing Tamwar, to seeing him happy and knowing it was her who made him happy, looking forward to a pleasant evening of light-hearted chat, laughs, good food and… family. Then she saw him. Dad. Dad was here? She smiled at him, not able to hide the confusion in her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Afia asked, then looked slightly worried, "Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Yusef shook his head reassuringly, and stood up to kiss her on the cheek.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was the sound of familiar voices edging nearer. Yusef and Afia both turned to see Tamwar, Zainab and Masood just a few feet away. The Masoods halted abruptly in their tracks, words fell silent and movement stilled as all eyes locked on Yusef.

"What's he doing here?" It was Masood who broke the uneasy quiet, his voice angry and accusing. Zainab looked panicked, her eyes darting from Yusef to Masood. Tamwar stepped towards his secret wife, who was looking upset.

Yusef bent his head and spoke quietly to his daughter, "It's ok", before raising himself up to his full height and raising his arms in an open gesture, including them all, as if he meant to pull them all together or else draw them into his web.

"Please... I thought it would be nice if we could sit down and be civil, put all this silliness behind us, for Afia and Tamwar's sake," he glanced at the couple and smiled, "We are going to be family, all of us." His stare fell on Zainab as he finished speaking, she flinched slightly as if his eyes were looking too close, seeing into her, intruding where she didn't want them, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and here in front of everyone, in this public place, strangers and the people most familiar to her all alike.

The look did not go unnoticed by Masood, and riled him even further. He glowered fiercely at Yusef, dragging his eyes from Zainab and making Yusef look at him with his sharp tongue, "I am not sitting at a table with that man! He will never be part of my family!" He turned as if to leave, people at a table nearby turned their heads at the sound of raised voices.

"Please," Afia pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion, "I hate this! Can you not just try to get along. I love Tamwar, I really do, can you not see what this is doing to me, to us?"

Masood looked at Afia, he could see the anguish in her face, the pleading in her eyes. Tamwar put an arm around Afia, his face indignant, challenging his father.

A waiter passed them, "Is everything ok?", Zainab twitched and tensed uncomfortably, her gaze flicking around furtively, she could see people were looking and the people she couldn't see, she could still feel their eyes boring into her. Not here, she thought. Please don't make a scene here. Part of her wanted to run, run far away from the prying eyes and judging faces, but that would just bring more attention, more questions. So instead she tried to keep her mask of normality, keep her fear in check, she could almost feel herself shrinking inside, thoughts and feelings burying themselves deep inside so that she could go on, go on invisibly, unnoticed to those that didn't know.

Yusef smiled. They were so predictable he thought, so simple in their weaknesses. "Come now Masood, people are watching."

"Please Mas.." Zainab whispered under her breath, through clenched teeth, "Don't make a scene. Just sit down. For me, for Tamwar… and his future wife."

Masood glared at Yusef, and with his whole being wished he could wipe that smug, self-satisfied smirk of his face, for good. He fists clenched at his sides, finger nails digging into flesh, but he was barely aware of the sensation, all he could feel was a bitter anger and a desperate frustration that this man continued to manipulate them, to always manage to come out on top, like he was the good guy.

"Dad?" It was Tamwar this time, hand in hand with Afia, his youthful face, wise and innocent at the same time, asking a question with his eyes. Would Masood do this for them? Put his son and his future happiness before his own vendetta?

Masood gritted his teeth and his jaw set in a rigid, uncompromising line, his eyes hard like steal. But as unwilling as his mind was, his legs slowly relented and moved with a yielding fluidity towards the table. He sat down at the edge on the near side, looking at no one. He would stay. He was permitting them that, but they better not expect him to be happy about it, to engage in polite and meaningless small talk. He sat stiffly, silently, staring straight ahead.

Yusef smiled at his collected guests, from Zainab, to Tamwar and Afia, before he returned to the seat he had occupied earlier, directly in front of Masood. Masood watched him threateningly as he sat, his eyes following his every arcane movement. Yusef gazed leisurely back at him, his eyes gleaming with a hidden laughter, his lips twitching with concealed mocking.

I'll get you, Masood thought. Your time will come. This isn't over. In fact, he knew it was only beginning, that he had to remain strong and hold in there, he must not let Yusef get the better of him, he would show his true colours soon enough. Eventually Yusef would make a mistake, let something slip amidst that cool impenetrable exterior, and he would be waiting, and he would do anything, anything to protect what was his, his family, his reputation, his life. He had walked through fire to save Zainab before, and he would do it again.

Zainab breathed a partial sigh of relief as she saw Masood sit down. Dare she hope that they could get through the next hour or so without any arguments, any shame or hurt? The immediate respite from fear and tension that she had felt when Masood had backed down, when she had realised he wasn't going to cause a fuss, caused her stoical guard to slip briefly. She felt her emotions begin to slip back up, unchecked, felt her heart fluttering in her chest.

Then Yusef sat down. Opposite Masood. Zainab's past and her present sat face to face, only a length of battered and worn wood between them. She could feel her two worlds colliding, long lost secrets and shame, pain and anger, like a pressure cooker pressing against her mind, against her present life, against her future, threatening to explode, to self-destruct in such magnitude that the shards and splinters from the boom, would tear through the very fabric of her existence, her world, and all who inhabited it. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breath, like the air had been sucked out in a vacuum and she was suffocating, her legs turned to jelly and she could feel her fingers tremble. She needed to get out, needed to find air, find space away from them, away from herself,.

"I.. I just have to go to the bathroom." Zainab said hurriedly, her voice sounding unnatural and not her own. She turned and fled towards the ladies, where she could take a moment away from all the eyes on her, scared of what they'd see laying inside.

Afia saw her father and Masood sit down, and relaxed a little, smiling gently at Tamwar's sympathetic and concerned glances. She led Tamwar by the hand, as she walked round the table and slid into the chair next to her father, Tam sat on the end seat beside her. She gave Yusef a look that let him know that she hadn't forgiven him yet, but appreciated the sentiment of what he was trying to do. But then another immediate worry clouded her vision and she searched his face dubiously. The worst wasn't over yet. There were still two guests to arrive, guests she'd invited. She feared it was about to all go horribly wrong, and that she was partly the cause. She felt her dad's hand on the back of hers, a tender touch of support, and then he looked at her reassuringly. He must know what he is doing she thought, she trusted him, it will be alright.

"Christian.." Syed said as he held the door, watching Christian walk past him into the restaurant. "Your button…" He nodded towards a wayward button on Christian's shirt that had somehow managed to get overlooked, in the speed of which Christian had had to dress himself.

"Oops, thanks." Christian grinned sheepishly, and pushed the button back into it's rightful place. Syed smirked wittingly back at him.

They were greeted by a member of staff and then led towards the back of the restaurant towards the table booked under Afia's name of Khan. They walked with light and warm hearts, exchanging brief little smiles and sportive glances.

Then suddenly and without warning, they caught sight of the familiar outlines and faces of the people waiting for them at the table.

"What the fuck?"" Christian looked quickly to Syed and saw his equally shocked and apprehensive expression. Turning back to the table he saw Tam and Afia, Yusef sitting beside them, Masood sitting opposite with his back to them, like they were about to participate in the most natural and normal thing in the world, all sitting down to dinner together.

Masood didn't turn around, but Christian knew by the way his shoulders tightened and his head rose slightly that he knew they were there. It was the first time he'd seen Masood since he'd come to the flat. He felt a familiar annoyance and frustration rise from his gut, but he didn't feel angry, or worse still, unsure of himself. In fact, as Masood finally turned around and looked him straight in the eye for a brief moment, he felt strong and decisive and almost... pleased. With a wicked glint in his eye Christian saw an opportunity too great to pass up, he would take great pleasure in winding Masood up as much as possible.

Syed eyed Christian sceptically, then turned back to the table, unable to comprehend what was going on. Yusef was openly staring at him, an enigmatic smile on his face. Masood's eyes flicked in his and Christian's general direction, before turning away again, only serving to emphasize the fact that he wasn't looking at them. Obviously this wasn't Masood's doing, he didn't want to be here, that much was clear, but there was an obvious omission to the gathering. Zainab. Where was his mother? Maybe it was Afia? Syed thought. Had she invited them all? Trying to force them all to get together, to get along? He looked in her direction, she seemed as baffled as the rest of them. If she had arranged it, she really had no idea at all what she'd let herself in for.

Afia spoke up suddenly, trying to breach the awkwardness, "Syed, Christian. I'm glad you could make it." There was a nervous, high pitched tone to her voice, that didn't sound entirely convincing. "We're… all here, this is…great, let's all have an enjoyable evening." It was obviously more of a plea than a statement.

Taking his cue, Christian jumped in, "Yes, let's! This is going to be such a delightful and enlightening evening. I've never been so excited at the prospect of so much fun, with all the people that I love the most." he declared, overdoing it a bit with the enthusiasm. Syed gave him a chastising look and he winked and smiled at him in mock innocence.

Christian could almost feel the tension in Masood mount. With large exaggerated moves, he strode over to Masood and plonked himself down in the chair next to him, his powerful arms resting on the table, long legs stretching out beneath, seeming to take up as much space as he possibly could. As Christian sat down, Masood become even more rigid and strained, like a coiled spring, winding tighter and tighter, it seemed like he was almost willing Christian to push him to snap, so that he could hit back.

Syed eyed Christian warily, what did he think he was doing? Typical Christian! Syed didn't know whether to feel mortified or proud. Then he felt Yusef's gaze on him, drawing him in and couldn't resist looking at him face on, looking into those strange eyes. Yusef was calm, too calm, the only one who didn't seem phased at all by this impromptu family gathering. He had a strong suspicion that this was his doing. One thing he knew for sure though, this mockery of a family meal was really going to happen. He felt uncertain, like everything was out of his control. He tried to regain some grounding, by way of polite behaviour and social decorum, in this incredulous situation that he had been totally unprepared for and now found himself in the middle of.

"Afia… thank you for inviting us." Syed gave her a tight smile, but was interrupted by a sarcastic muttered guffaw from Masood's direction. Christian shot Masood a venomous look.

Syed chose to ignore Masood and continued, "I... er, I thought it would be just… I mean I didn't realise…." but before he could get anything of any sense out, Yusef abruptly rose to his feet.

"Syed," Yusef said in greeting, taking control of the situation again. With his hand, he motioned genially to the solitary chair at the head of the table, adjacent to where he himself was sitting. "Please join us… sit down." Arm outstretched, remaining still, Yusef waited for Syed to sit.

Syed didn't want to sit down, and certainly not there. Not in the no man's land between Yusef and his father. He quickly glanced towards Christian, almost a cry for help, but Christian was still busy throwing daggers at Masood. The longer Syed hesitated the more he felt like the decision was being taken away from him, he saw Yusef nodding, indicating again for him to sit down. Perhaps he could walk around and sit next to Christian… he would much prefer to sit next to Christian, if he had to be here at all, but it would be so obvious, such an undeniable rebuke, and everyone else was sitting comfortably, well, not comfortably, but they were sitting at least, not fuelling confrontations. Feeling trapped, he conceded and sat down, Masood to his right and Yusef to his left. He regretted it almost instantly.

Syed barely felt the hard cushion of the seat under him, before she was there. The last piece in the jigsaw, a jigsaw seemingly impossible to fit together. The pieces were all here now, but no matter which way you turned them, they wouldn't fit right. You couldn't complete the puzzle, because you had no idea what the picture was that you were trying to complete.

Syed physically winced at the look of sheer horror on his Mother's face when she clocked him and Christian. He saw her brow furrow, in the same way he knew his own would. Quickly she tried to recover and her eyes flashed darkly, her neck and shoulders tensed.

"I think you're in my seat." She spat angrily in Christian's direction.

"Mum?" Syed implored.

Zainab ignored Syed, and lowered her eyes, her voice came out thick with controlled rage. "He…" she snarled, pointing a finger at Christian, "… has taken my place."

Christian shook his head despairingly at Zainab.

"Just sit down Zee." Masood snapped angrily. He hadn't wanted to stay in the first place, but she had wanted him to avoid making a scene, now here she was doing the exact same thing herself, she had a different set of rules for herself, obviously.

Zainab quickly looked up again, meeting her husbands demanding stare, willing her to comply. Feeling the fight drain out of her, she looked reluctantly at the one remaining space, right next to Christian and her shoulders slumped. With a non committal humph and a contemptuous look at Christian, she begrudgingly sank down on the chair.

Syed sat, palms face down on the table, registering the faces before him, trying futilely to read the situation, to get his bearings. Yusef gave a tight little smile. Afia offered a relieved smile to Tamwar, like the fact that they'd actually managed to all sit round a table meant it was all going to be ok. Tamwar gazed sympathetically at her naivety. His mother sat, eyes downcast, tracing the wood grain in the table, her lips a harsh line, shoulders hunched. And there was Christian. Syed locked eyes with his lover, the only ones he could read, could understand, felt a truthful connection with.

Christian's exuberance and joy at having a chance to wind Masood up from earlier had seemed to evaporate. Gone was his predatory position and he now sat with his arms pressed to his sides, hands clasped on his lap, knees together, like he was being squashed together. He raised his eyebrows at Syed in a silent SOS, and glanced in exaggerated fearfulness to his left and right, stuck in the middle between Zainab and Masood, the worst place he could possibly find himself. It was almost comedic, Syed would have smiled at him, rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, if he hadn't felt such a weight in his stomach, pulling him down, rooting him to the spot, overshadowing his thoughts and feelings.

Syed sat alone at the head of the table, feeling like he didn't belong there, had no place. He didn't want to be there. His father Masood, his mother's second husband to his right, Yusef, her first husband to his left, the tension between them charging the air before him, making it hard to breath. What was he doing here? What were they all doing here? He had the bizarre thought that he was expected to be some sort of chair person, like somehow he was expected to bring order to the disparity of thinking, the disharmony of objectives and diversity of personalities sitting in discord around him. He was suddenly acutely aware of the ridiculousness of it all, these combined and connected family members, their lives simultaneously revolving around each other and dispelling like opposing currents at the same time. After everything that had gone before, it was a miracle they were here at all, utterly surreal and unimaginable. Ridiculous, but not funny, definitely not funny.

"Well," Tamwar said, and casually picked up a menu from the table, knocking a knife from its carefully laid place setting as he did so, "Oops, better watch those knives, wouldn't want anyone getting stabbed accidentally," he paused, and raised his eyebrows, "Hmmm, anyone for starters?" He looked up to see several pairs of eyes on him, some with dangerous intent. "On seconds thoughts, maybe we should skip straight to dessert."


	12. Chapter 12

**A big thank you to my beta Clarkeyfangirl, and to everyone reading and leaving reviews! Much appreciated!**

**So, the angst begins...**

* * *

><p>Somehow, they managed to get through the meal intact. Chat was kept to a minimum and mostly covered talk of Afia and Tamwar's wedding preparations, Yusef and Afia enthusing over the details. Christian tried his best to show a vague interest and ignored the thinly veiled insults that came from his right, whenever he made a comment. Masood remained broodingly silent, only answering when directly spoken to and then saying as little as possible. Syed succeeded in being polite and cordial, but remained aloof.<p>

The stilted conversation seemed to diminish with the food, and by the time they'd all finished eating, all vague pleasantries had been used up and an uneasy silence fell upon them. Yusef used a cloth napkin to lightly dab his mouth, before folding it neatly and placing it on his empty plate. "Well, that was rather enjoyable." he said wryly.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed your meal. Now, can we go?" Masood looked up sharply, "Or are you going to tell everyone why we're really here?" he said crossly.

"Now Masood," Yusef said slowly and deliberately, like he was talking to a child. "You know why we're here, don't you?"

Masood glared back at him. What was this? What was Yusef's game?

Zainab spoke up suddenly, "That was a lovely meal, thank you," she said sounding not in the least bit sincere, "but it's probably time we were going, we told the babysitter we wouldn't be late." She glanced nervously down the table, hoping to find Masood, but instead her eyes met Yusef and she quickly looked away again. She felt scared, she didn't want to continue this charade, she was afraid of what may be lurking under Yusef's apparent good intentions. She didn't want to think about it, refused to let herself think about it. They would just leave. She would go home, with her family, where she belonged. She pushed her chair back and made to get up. At her movement. everyone else round the table, bar Yusef, seemed to also poise themselves ready to make their escape, a mass fleeing and abandonment of this pointless endeavour.

"Wait!" Yusef called out sharply "We haven't toasted the happy couple yet."

"It's ok Dad," Afia said, looking around almost apologetically.

"No, it's not." he said, and beckoned a waiter to refill their drinks.

There was a collective despondency and almost audible sigh, as after being eagerly tensed to leave, everyone reluctantly sunk back into their seats. Yusef raised his glass, and the others tolerably followed suit, they just wanted to get this over with now.

"To Afia and Tamwar, may they have a long and happy marriage." Yusef declared, holding his glass aloft, before taking a small sip. "Indeed, may it be as long as that of your parents Tamwar, how long have they been married?"

"Er.. thank you." Tamwar replied courteously, "Yes... 28 years I believe."

A small smile played on the edge of Yusef's lips, but his eyes were contemplative. "28 years… you believe" he paused, his face suddenly becoming intensely serious. "Hmmm, that's funny, and you Tamwar, being of such logical mind, such a good head for numbers and conundrums."

Zainab let out a half-strangled cry, and clutched one hand to her mouth and one to her chest, causing Christian to look puzzled in her direction.

"Why is that funny?" Syed retorted, feeling an inherent need to defend his family. "Seems a pretty big achievement to me."

"Syed." Yusef said, turning to give him his full attention. "I'm sorry, perhaps funny was a poor choice of words. No, I don't find it funny at all." he paused thoughtfully for a moment, "I think there must be some confusion though, eh Masood?" Yusef's head snapped round to look at Masood, as he stressed his name, his voice rising. Masood kept his eyes locked on Yusef, but remained silent.

"I thought you got married in this country," Yusef continued, "But 28 years ago, Zainab was still in Pakistan…"

"No!" Zainab shouted shrilly and jumped to her feet. "It's not true…"

"Still in Pakistan…" Yusef continued calmly as if she hadn't interrupted him. "With me."

"What?" Syed asked quietly, his brow furrowed, "I don't understand."

Tamwar looked equally confused and looked across the table at his mother, at the sheer panic and undisguised fear in her eyes. "Mum?"

What now?, thought Christian, not really comprehending. Not more secrets and lies, what was with this family?

"Yusef," Masood warned, his voice low and menacing, his eyes dark. "Let's talk about this in private, you and me." Masood didn't want to do this here, not in front of everyone. He didn't want it to come out like this. He felt his pride and ego rising up to do battle, he wanted to take control of the situation, he didn't want Yusef to blow everything apart, to win. Yes, the truth could not remain hidden much longer, but he wanted to be the one to tell it, in his own way and on his own terms, to try and salvage something from the depths of this debacle. "Let's take this outside. It's me you've got the real problem with, me you want to hurt. It's always been _me_."

Syed could see his mother visibly upset, and felt anger at Yusef and his father for whatever this latest vendetta was, and what it was obviously doing to her. He watched as she closed her anguished eyes and clasped shaky hands to her face as if to ward off some imminent danger. Then he saw Christian, his face a mixture of confusion and concern, tentatively reach out and place a comforting hand on Zainab's arm, despite everything she'd done to him it still pained him to see anyone upset. Syed's heart went out to both of them, his mother, the one who had loved him first, had held him first, had nurtured him and watched him grow, and Christian, the one who would love him last, would love him until his last breath, and beyond life itself, his soul mate.

"It shouldn't have been _you_ though, should it Masood?" Yusef said seriously, a slight tremble in his usually controlled voice, "It should have been me! It should have been me sitting where you are now," brief emotion cracked through his veneer. "You took what wasn't yours to take."

"Dad? What's this about?" Afia worried, not liking seeing her father on edge, and fearing of what further quarrel could come between her and Tamwar. Was their relationship never destined to be simple and easy?

Syed looked in vexation from his mother to Yusef and then across to his father. Masood remained stoically silent staring at Yusef in a battle of wills. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say? In fact, why couldn't they all just say what they wanted to say, be honest and truthful, why did it always have to be like this? He didn't want to be a part of this anymore, couldn't take it anymore, this cloak and dagger stuff, this fucking farce of a family of his.

Through his anxiety, Syed gradually became aware of warm and understanding eyes resting on him, sensing their trajectory before he even turned to meet them. With his eyes locked on Christian's, for a moment all the surrounding conceit and complication fell away, and it was just the two of them. Christian imparted a 'Do you want to get out of here?' look, and Syed was just about to nod in agreement, when someone spoke his name.

"Syed." Yusef said, but his eyes remained focused on Masood. Yusef drew himself up in his seat, with any hint of emotion falling from his face and expertly replaced with a veil of control and purpose once more.

Syed turned his head to Yusef, "What?" he said softly, brows creasing.

"This is about Syed." Yusef continued to face Masood.

"Me?" Syed exclaimed, his voice getting more forceful, willing them to look at him. He felt a growing panic from somewhere deep within him, an unknown darkness and dread stirring in his subconscious. If this was about him, why wouldn't they look at him? He glanced back at his mother, her eyes were downcast, her mouth pulled in a grimace, her shoulders shook slightly, was she crying? Why was she crying? Had he done something wrong? The thought entered his head before he could stop it, the unexplainable guilt. He looked back at the two men either side of him, they continued to stare at each other, their silence tormented his ears, their lack of sight hurt his eyes. Why was it him? Why did it always have to be about him? Yet still he remained invisible to them, it always came back to him, but no one could see him, no one would look at him. He was here, right here.

He felt like shouting, like screaming, like somehow it would release the tension, release himself from within, but he didn't. His voice came out in a pleading rasp, weak and vulnerable, a betrayal of his heart. "This is about me?" he breathed.

Yet somehow it worked, and both men turned to face him, they looked into him, like they were seeing him for the first time. He'd got what he wanted and yet now he felt too exposed, uncomfortable, scared, like he wished they hadn't seen him, like he wished he wasn't there. He felt torn in two with the conflict and confusion of his rising emotions.

"Syed," Yusef said "This isn't how it was meant to be."

"Sy…"

Syed heard a familiar warm and velvety voice travel across the tumultuous ocean towards him, a helping hand in the darkness, a virtual life jacket, he wished he could grasp onto to it, but he felt directionless, completely lost and adrift.

Yusef leaned in towards Syed, capturing his sight in such a way that Syed felt compelled to look at him. He spoke reflectively, his words falling like liquid off his tongue. "You were but a tiny thing, growing inside your mother's womb, she brought you here, with him." His eyes shot a bullet towards Masood before looking back at Syed again. "But that's not where you started Syed, not where you came from."

"I won't have this!" It was Masood, his voice clear and impassioned. "Not from you. I'm head of this family, my family, and I'll say what goes!" he turned decisively towards Syed. "Son…" he began.

The very word caused Syed's eyes to glaze and his pulse to quicken. 'That perversion is not my son', the hurtful words rising to the surface of his memory and relaying themselves like an echo in his mind. Was he his son or wasn't he? Did he accept him or not? Syed deliberated, still unaware of the real meaning that surrounded his thoughts, the real meaning of what was being said.

Masood looked intently at Syed, his face sombre and determined, willing Syed to listen, to understand what he was saying. "When I saved your mother from that fire, I saved you too, her unborn baby," he paused and reached out a hand, slightly hesitant at first, unsure of Syed's reaction to his touch, after he had given so little for so long, then more resolutely he laid his hand on top of Syed's, resting on the table. There was clear emotion in his eyes, tears threatening to form. "I chose the both of you. I wanted the both of you."

Syed felt his breath quicken, Masood's words washed over him, but they didn't seem to be sinking in, they were muddled with a multitude of mixed emotions that were even more confounded by the warm but tentative touch of Masood's hand on his. For a moment he felt like he had him. His father, for so long distant and cold to him, was now here, right here with him, he could feel it in his heart, see it in Masood's eyes. But at the same time his head was trying to tell him something, tell him something completely different to what he was feeling, something he should be listening to, but he didn't want to, he didn't want to listen. Not when he had him, his hand on his, his eyes looking at him, into him, with… love? Regret? That bond. He felt that bond that he had so longed for. Please don't take it away.

Yusef took a deep breath and uttered the words that could never be taken back. That would affect each and every person sitting around that table. That would crack the very foundations that their family had been built upon and bring their lives crashing down around them, the reverberations sending shock waves back through their perceived past and forward into their envisioned future.

"But he's not your son Masood," Yusef said, "He's mine. Syed is my son."

Syed's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, but no sound escaped, as he felt his heart being ripped from his chest. The world seemed to recede around him, sounds became distorted and movements blurred in slow motion. In a split second, his life seemed to flash before his eyes. A little mocking voice inside him laughed. He saw Masood, teaching him to hit a ball, helping him with his homework, saw Shabs winding him up, Tam pulling on his sleeve, his mother cupping his face. All pictures from his childhood, images that had seemed real, up until a moment ago, but now they seemed like they belonged to someone else, like he was watching them from afar, like his whole life had been a lie. He felt numb, disconnected from the world around him, his lungs struggling to breathe in air that felt like it was thick with fog, his limbs felt unnaturally heavy and cumbersome.

The shock of Yusef's words rendered Christian momentarily speechless and devoid of action. Fuck. What the fuck? The hushed quiet that surrounded him was only broken by the eerie sound of Zainab's wretched gasp.

Christian saw the devastation befall Syed's face as it drained of colour and turned deathly pale. As Christian watched his lover's world come crashing down around him, his heart screamed out, spurring him into action, and he jumped to his feet. His startled and worried eyes fixed on Syed's glazed expression and leaving Zainab silently weeping at his side, he went to him. But before he could make it, before he could lock his arms around Syed and hold on to him like he was never letting go again, Masood stood up in a rush of anger and fury. The chair Masood had been sitting on was knocked forcibly backwards, and it crashed to the floor blocking Christian's way. Shit. Get out of my way, his mind growled in angry desperation.

There was a sudden flurry of movement and bodies, as Masood reached across the table and grabbed Yusef by the shirt, rage burning through his veins as he aggressively pulled Yusef towards him, his fist tensely clutching the fabric until his knuckles turned white. His intention was obvious and irrefutable, as he pulled his other arm back. Instinctively reacting, Christian grabbed onto Masoods upper arms, wrestling with him, trying to pull him off Yusef and prevent him from hitting him.

"Dad!" Afia screamed through rivers of tears, her face scared, confused, hurt, "No… please…" she cried, her hands pulled and tugged at her dad's clothes, unable to get a grip through her grief. Tamwar rose awkwardly to his feet, his questioning, accusing eyes darting to Zainab as he did so, but she remained seated, shoulders slumped, head hung low, hair falling over her face and tendrils sticking to the salty dampness on her cheeks, her only movement the gasping and shaking of her chest. She looked broken. Tam turned to his distressed wife, "Afia…" He really had no other words. No words to comfort, no words to explain, no words of reason to compute what had just happened.

The violent scuffle in front of him, the sound of screaming and sobbing seemed to stir something physical inside Syed's unresponsive muscles and deadened nerves. He had to get out of here. Get away from them, get away from himself. He could feel a precipice opening up beneath him, the ground falling away, pulling him in, he was going to fall, fall into the blackness. He pleaded from within, somebody help me… please.

The blur of movement playing out before his clouded eyes seemed to negate a trickle of energy into his limbs. If he could just think, connect his mind to his body, send the signal for it to move, he could escape, escape before it was too late. As the last of his foundations crumbled away, his mind jolted and his body responded, springing up, springing away from it all, away from his life as he had known it. He clumsily pushed back his chair and stumbled away from the table, his eyes unseeing, not wanting to look, he couldn't look. He turned away from them, turned his back on them, and he staggered forward, willing his legs to move, one in front of the other, weaving between tables and chairs, brushing against bodies that failed to move out of his way quick enough.

"Sy!" Christian shouted, as he saw Syed's face turn, his haunted face, looking so young, so lost, "Syed!" He let go of Masood, and spun around, but Syed was gone, already gone, quickly disappearing from sight. Shit.

Faster and faster, Syed ran, through the bustle of movement and suffocating clatter of noise, until he barged through the heavy doors of the restaurant and into the dusky evening light outside. He gasped for fresh air, trying to ease the tightness in his chest, the ringing in his ears.

Abruptly, Masood pushed Yusef away and looked round for Syed, like he'd suddenly remembered who this was really about, but it was too late. Zainab also looked up at the sound of Christian calling her son's name, looked out from her own inner world of pain and shame, a loud sob escaped her lips.

Christian looked at them both and shook his head with angry incredulity, with pity, but not sympathy. He hoped they suffered, wanted them to suffer with the result of everything they'd done, everything they'd failed to do, for him, for Syed. He thought he'd seen it all, thought there was nothing else amidst their delusion and deceit, nothing worse they could possibly throw at him, hurt him with, that they'd sunk as low as they possibly could, but he was wrong, he was so wrong. They continued to amaze him, in their absolute hateful destruction.

"What have you done? My God, what the hell have you done?" Christian admonished, his voice low, but laced with venom, "How could you do this? You really are… unbelievable. I hope you rot in your self-imposed hell." and with his words left hanging in the air, he left them to it, and went rushing after Syed.

Christian stepped outside the restaurant, eyes frantically searching, hoping to see Syed. But he wasn't there. He couldn't see him. Where was he? He moved down the high street towards the tube station, legs striding, picking up speed, the longer he couldn't see him, the more he wanted to see him, needed to see him. His heart seemed to beat faster in protest, the longer he was away from him. He saw a head of similar height to Syed, a tangle of dark hair, and put a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around, he was assaulted by angry eyes, but it wasn't him, it wasn't Syed. He instantly dismissed him and carried on, entering the tube station, looking through the small crowds of people. Where was he?

Christian felt a growing uneasiness. He could only begin to imagine what Syed was thinking and feeling right now. He longed for him to be here with him, to feel his hand in his, feel his body against his in a tight embrace, to see the inflections in his eyes, to hear his gentle voice share his troubled thoughts, so that he could at least try to ease the pain, share the burden if nothing else. He hated to think of Syed out there somewhere, hurting and alone.

He felt his memory stir in recognition of familiar feelings, overwhelming anxiety and worry of times gone before. Alone in the wake of devastation. Not knowing where Syed was, how he was, what he wanted, what he needed, if he was ok, or if he was far from ok.

'You, I want you.' Christian repeated the words from his memory. Where was he? He made his way to their platform, but Syed was nowhere to be found. 'All I have is ashes.' Syed had said, his eyes hurt and angry, palms pushing him away, rejecting him. Then nothing, nothing at all, he was gone, just like that, gone. He remembered a tentative phone call, his own pleading and desperate cries hidden between the words. 'I'm worried about you, and I'm missing you. Just call me. I love you.' Before it all went horribly wrong, for both of them.

Christian grabbed his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. The ringing seemed to last forever, rebounding into emptiness. Please pick up. Please pick up.

He would go home right? Surely he would go home. Please.. Let him go home. Let him be at home.

"I'm sorry your call cannot be connected…" The shrill tone sent further shivers up Christian's spine.

"Sy, where are you? Please call me, I'm going to head home, please be there when I get back, it's going to be ok, we can get through this, together."

Christian ran up the stairs to their flat, taking them two at a time, he fumbled with the key in the lock, cursing his shaking hands, before flinging the door wide. It was dark, there were no lights on. No familiar, reassuring sounds.

"Sy?" he called, quickly turning the lights on and searching the small flat, "Sy, are you here?" he clung on to the last shred of hope, as he looked in all the rooms, but he already knew the answer, knew he wasn't there, the coldness and ominous emptiness of the flat overwhelmed him and he sank down on the sofa, tears stinging his eyes, heart hammering against his chest. He took a deep ragged breath to try and get himself under control. He wouldn't fall apart, not now, he couldn't. Wherever Syed was, he needed him. He picked up his phone again, waiting impatiently for the tone.

"Sy, I'm worried about you. I love you. I'm here for you, you're not alone. Please come home."


	13. Chapter 13

**As always thank you for all your reviews, alerts and favourites, and also special thanks to Clarkeyfangirl for being my beta!**

**For all you angst lovers - this one's a bit sad :(**

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><p>'<em>And the tears come streaming down your face<em>

_When you lose something you can't replace _

_When you love someone, but it goes to waste _

_Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home _

_And ignite your bones _

_And I will try to fix you'_

**_Fix You - Coldplay_**

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><p>Night was drawing in and with it came a biting coolness that nipped at vulnerable exposed skin. There were too many people, too much noise, too many lights hurting Syed's eyes and fuelling the pain in his head. He wanted to get away, to be on his own, in the dark, where everything was peaceful, everything was quiet. He walked quickly through the high street and briefly considered the tube, but the thought of being pressed up against unknown bodies, the trundling roar vibrating in his ears, the jagged movement unbalancing his already unsteady legs and shaky sense of equilibrium, was too much.<p>

He strode past the tube station and down street after street, lined with rows upon rows of houses. Ordinary family homes, like his had been. Windows watched him as he walked past, emitting a warm glow from within, shining with the heart of the families that dwelled within. He could hear them in his mind, laughing, talking, bickering, the normal casual exchanges of love and familiarity that families shared in. His family had been like that, hadn't it? Growing up, his childhood, it couldn't have all been an illusion? What happened? When did it start to go wrong? When did his family fall apart?

Was it when he had taken that money from his parents? When his own foolishness and need to impress had cost them so dearly? It had cost him too, so much, too much. He was young, and alone, and lost for the first time. But was that when it started? No. It started before then. It started with every word Masood didn't say to him. Every time he shook his head in disappointment. Every time Zainab filled his head with her own wants and needs and left no room for his own. It went back, back, further than even he could have known. Back to…

No. He shook his head slightly. He couldn't do this. He forced the echo of Yusef's words out of his mind. He swallowed and pushed down the accompanying thoughts. He didn't know how to even begin to contemplate what it all meant, never mind comprehend. He didn't have the power or even the want to deal with it at this moment in time. He felt like he'd been rocked to the very core, like his whole life had been built on lies, nothing seemed real anymore, he didn't know what to think, what to feel, he didn't know who he was. The foundations had been ripped from under him, and he was falling, falling so fast.

The panic rushed from deep inside his gut, up into his throat, he felt sick, he couldn't breathe. He found his legs quickening their pace, the houses looming either side of him felt like they were closing in, moving towards him, crushing the life out of him. He felt his airways constricting, a burning in the back of his throat. He couldn't think, he couldn't let himself think, he couldn't feel, he didn't want to feel.

He did the only thing he could do, he ran.

He was running, he didn't know where he was going, his body wasn't his anymore, he didn't feel like himself anymore. He felt his legs move, one in front of the other, his heart hammering in his chest. His head swam through lack of oxygen as he struggled to breathe. He ran blindly, his vision blurring. He felt a wetness on his face, was he crying? All he knew was he needed to escape, to escape them, no… escape himself, escape the thoughts in his head, the… pain.

Suddenly, he felt it, the intense pain, aching in his muscles, setting his nerve endings alight, he felt it in his chest, in his heart, an intense throbbing pain. He stopped, gasping for breath, seeming unable to capture the air his lungs were screaming out for. He bent almost double, clasping his arms tightly around his chest like a child, partly in comfort, a sad pitiful attempt to comfort himself, and partly in desperation of trying to hold himself together, to contain the onslaught of emotions, of thoughts, of feelings that was threatening to spill out. His heart was pounding so fast, a wild, chaotic beat, it hurt so much he felt his heart would surely stop. The fear and dark desolation bore down on him, so terrifyingly heavy that he thought he might literally break.

But he didn't break. Although it felt like every part of him had nearly ripped apart, somehow he remained. As did the darkness, and the knowledge of what had been said, of what was now real. He took several deep, racking breaths, trying to steady himself and get his turbulent physical being back under control. He focused on his breathing, willing his mind again to go blank, to think nothing, to feel nothing. As he felt his pulse begin to slow and the acute pain in his muscles dulled, he vaguely became aware of his surroundings once more. He felt the cold evening air chill the damp skin on his face. Every part of him felt numb. Slowly he let his eyes focus, his arms loosened their hold and he stood upright, looking around. He felt lost, completely lost, and so alone.

He was in the allotments. He knew he was near home, but at that moment it stilled seemed so very far away. How he had ended up here, or why, he didn't know, but it was quiet, and he was alone. An icy breeze whipped the hair about his face, he looked around, as if seeing the world for the first time, everything was the same, but different, darker, it's very existence seemed to be mocking him. He noticed a wooden bench to his right, and immediately realised how unstable he felt on his feet, his legs felt strange as he made his way over and sat down.

He slumped down on the bench. The rough wooden slats, hard and unforgiving underneath him. He realised he was trembling, shaking, from his head to his toes. He told himself it was the cold, and bringing his knees up to his chin he wrapped his arms around his legs, clasping his hands round his elbows. But he still felt cold, so very cold, and alone.

He remained there, silent and wrapped up in himself. After a while his breathing slowed, the painful hammering of his heart eased and he was left feeling sluggish and empty. Slowly, he looked up through damp lashes and gazed foggily ahead of him, his eyes focusing on the patch of ground in front of him. Ordered rows of young green shoots burst up from rich fertile soil. Lines of vegetables and herbs, each one painstakingly planted, tended to, given the care, support and nurturing it needed. They were grouped together like for like, strong and sheltered in their unity. He felt a sadness filling the hollow inside him, and unconsciously shook his head from side to side, shutting out all thought process... he couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this… not alone.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, in the solitary stillness of his surroundings. Time seemed to have lost all meaning. But slowly he allowed one thought to enter his closed mind. One thing that was real, one thing that he could trust. His body responded almost like it had a will of it's own, like it knew, it knew what it needed, even if he didn't know it himself. He stood up, and he let it lead him. He couldn't think, it was too painful, he didn't know what to think, so he let instinct take over, the most basic, natural instinct he had, and it took him home, thank God, it took him home, to him.

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><p>Christian didn't know what else to do. He felt powerless, his agitation growing with each agonising second that passed. It had been over 3 hours and Syed still wasn't here. He'd reluctantly left the flat, checked the café, the vic, the gardens, the usual places. But he hadn't wanted to stay away too long, in case Syed returned home and he wasn't there. He'd rang the usual faces, heard the usual voices 'No, I haven't seen him.'<p>

He stared at the phone on the table as if willing it to ring, and sunk back into the sofa. He wiped his eyes, and then rubbed his palms across his face, as if it might erase the tension, or else ignite a new wave of purpose into his weary mind and body. A thought crossed his mind, not for the first time, should he ring _them_? Would Syed have gone there, to seek answers? He'd seemed pretty keen, desperate in fact, to get away from them earlier. Christian's heart dropped at the thought of whatever more pain and confusion they could be inflicting on Syed. Reluctantly he reached for the phone…

He was interrupted by the oh so welcome sound of a key turning in a lock. He bolted upright and practically ran to the door as it opened before him, his green eyes wide with worry, his breath already catching in his throat. Only one thought on his mind. Syed.

Aware of Christian's acute and concerned scrutiny, Syed stood motionless in the open doorway, as if even the slightest movement now would see him lose control of everything. His brown eyes were huge and painfully shadowed as they peered unblinkingly up at Christian, locking onto his gaze as if it were his only lifeline.

"Sy!" Christian breathed with relief, "I've been worried sick. Are you…?" Of course he wasn't ok, Christian berated himself, how could he possibly be ok? But he was here. He was home. He was safe.

Syed's lips parted as if he were about to speak, but no words came out, just a small intake of breath. His eyes never left Christian's face.

"It's ok," Christian whispered softly, one hand reaching out to push the door closed behind Syed, as the other came to rest on his shoulder. With the outside world shut out, it was just the two of them once more, and Christian pulled Syed towards him, his arms encircling him, his head leaning against his. He closed his eyes, the solid feeling of Syed in his arms, the warmth of his body held against his, giving a temporary release from the ache in his heart. This was where he belonged, this was where they both belonged. "It's all going to be ok." he sighed with relief, breathing moist air onto Syed's cheek, his lips gently making contact with his skin, as if needing to taste that he was real.

But as Christian relaxed, he became aware that Syed was not. His body, normally soft and compliant, practically melting under the heat of Christian's touch, felt stiff and unyielding. His arms didn't take their usual instinctive journey to slide around Christian's waist or over his back, instead they remained tense and stationary at his sides.

Christian pulled back from Syed, so he could see his face, but his eyes were downcast, his jaw tense. "Sy?" he said, his voice low. But the only response was the heavy rise and fall of Syed's chest, as if every breath pained him. With one hand holding Syed's arm, his thumb caressing in small strokes, Christian's other hand was drawn to his face, cupping it tenderly, lovingly.

"Sy… I know there must be a million things going round in your head right now. I can't believe it myself, how _you_ must be feeling I…" the words got stuck in his throat as he gulped down the emotion that started to rise to the surface again. He sighed and then watched as Syed's gaze slowly travelled back up to his face.

Syed looked warily into Christian's eyes. Saw his pain reflected on their glistening surface. He hated to see it there, to see hurt in those eyes. He felt dangerously on the edge. Looking into Christian's eyes made it so hard to hide, to pretend, to not think, to not feel. Christian knew him, knew all of him. A part of him wanted to look away, to move away from Christian's touch, from his love, it was too much, he felt too much, he wouldn't be able to contain it. But at the same time he couldn't look away, didn't want to look away for fear he would lose himself.

"Please Sy… just… talk to me." Christian said gently, not able to hide the anguish in his voice.

Syed's brows furrowed as he frowned, his lips pressed tightly together, he wished he could ease the worry on Christian's face but he could find no words to form, and was afraid of what might happen if he did. So he tried to pull away from Christian's touch, bringing his hands up and tentatively pushing at Christian's chest as he took a step back. His arms served a dual purpose between them, a barrier pushing Christian and his own feelings away, but also a misguided attempt at a shield, protecting himself and also Christian from the hurt he felt he was inflicting.

But Christian had other ideas, and with a pained look of determination on his face he grabbed hold of Syed's wrists in a firm grip and took an unrelenting step forward, closing the distance between them once more. He wasn't going to let him do this.

Syed twisted uncomfortably in Christian's hold, the distress becoming more and more evident on his face. He shook his head, trying to dispell the tears he could feel forming in the corner of his eyes. "Christian please…" he said finally, his eyes beseeching Christian's, his voice strained, "Let me go!"

"No." Christian replied softly, "I've got you, and I'm never going to let you go… I promise."

The look in his eyes was so sincere, so full of love, of care and longing, that Syed could instantly feel his resolve crumble. He felt the jolt direct to his heart and he couldn't deny it's need anymore, couldn't hide from who he was and what he felt, for they were surely the same thing. A strange rasping sound emitted from his throat and his bottom lip quivered as he felt the tears spill from his eyes. In spite of the magnitude of his emotions, he felt a relief wash over him, as the tension of trying to keep them repressed drained away. As it did so, so too did all the strength in his body and he felt himself falling, his body unable to hold him any longer. But he wasn't scared, because he wasn't alone, not any more. There was someone there to catch him and his heart knew with absolute certainty that catch him he would.

Christian watched in agonized silence as Syed stopped fighting him, stopped fighting himself. As his beautiful face crumpled and the tears began to flow freely, Christian felt Syed buckle beneath him, and immediately wrapped his strong arms around him, holding him tightly against himself, holding him up, as he sobbed loudly into his chest. The plaintive sound seeped into his own afflicted heart, and he couldn't seem to separate them as he felt tears well in his own eyes.

Christian squeezed Syed tighter, wrapped himself around him, buried his head in his hair. He felt Syed return the embrace, his arms encircling and clinging onto his waist, as he continued to cry.

"Shhhhh…" Christian soothed, a hand stroking the back of Syed's head, fingers smoothing the thick locks of dark hair. "Shhhhh baby." he kissed the top of his head, his own tears wetting the soft strands. "It's ok." he breathed.

When Syed had felt steady enough to move, Christian had led him to the sofa, Syed curled into the corner and Christian made them both a cup of strong tea and then settled down beside him. They'd exchanged reassuring looks and their hands continually made contact with each other as they'd drunk the hot liquid and collected their thoughts. With their throats eased and emotions receded to a more manageable level, Christian wrapped an arm behind Syed, and Syed reached over to entwine his fingers with Christian's.

Christian looked directly at Syed, "I'm so sorry, Sy." he said, as earnestly as he could, but it didn't seem enough.

"Thank you." Syed said quietly, his voice still sounding tender and slightly hoarse.

"For what?" Christian wished he could take the pain of what they'd done away, make it better, but he couldn't.

"For being here. For being what I need. For being my light in the dark." There was a slight tremor to Syed's bottom lip as he spoke, and his eyes shone with renewed tears.

Without thinking Christian cupped his face and brushed a gentle thumb across his mouth, "I love you." he whispered, before leaning in, his own lips stilling the tiny tremble with a firm but tender kiss. He pulled back slowly, but stayed close.

Syed could feel Christian's warm breath on his face, and felt drawn into his eyes, he could see the flecks of colour and shades of emotion within them. He could see him, he knew him, he loved him. He felt grounded, safe. Somehow, in spite of it all, he managed a small smile, and Christian's eyes brightened a little in response.

"I'm here and I want to help," Christian urged, "but… you have to let me… talk to me Sy." The pleading in his voice was a realisation to Syed that Christian needed him to talk as much as he needed too.

"I… I don't know where to start." he said shakily, but Christian remained silent, his gaze both encouraging and consoling, giving him the space he needed to think, to find his words. "I just.. " he sighed, "I think I'm still in shock… I can't believe it. All those years, they kept it a secret. How? Why? It doesn't seem real, nothing seems real anymore. My Dad, things have been…" he paused painfully, "difficult, I know. He hasn't always been the person I would have liked, and I know the feeling is mutual, but he was always my Dad, always that person for me. I just don't know what to think anymore. I don't know where I _fit_, I don't understand, I feel so…hurt, angry, confused. I have so many questions going round my head, so many uncertainties…" he took a deep breath, his voice rising as he became more agitated, "Christian, I don't know what to do! I don't know how I should even begin to deal with it."

"Sy.." Christian said, rubbing a hand up and down Syed's arm, "There's no _should_, you do whatever you need to do, feel whatever you need to feel, we'll deal with whatever happens together, one moment at a time." He saw Syed relax a little, and looked at him thoughtfully before continuing, "Maybe you should talk to them, it might help make things clearer, give you some answers, even if they're not all the answers you want to hear?"

The thought of Syed talking to his parents and the worry of what they could say to him, made Christian nervous, but he felt he needed it, Syed needed to be heard and he needed to hear what they had to say for themselves, whatever that might be. Then there was him, Yusef, the real unknown quantity here. Yusef, Syed's father? The thought still hit Christian like a brick. It had become obvious to Christian that he had planned the whole thing for maximum impact, the meal, the revelation, what were his motives? What did he want and did Syed really need it? Syed hadn't mentioned him, and he didn't want to push, Syed needed to take things at his own pace.

Syed nodded sadly, resignedly, "I know… I just…" he sighed.

"It's ok. Come 'ere." Christian said and pulled Syed towards him into an embrace.

Syed turned and settled himself against Christian's chest, welcoming the extra comfort the closeness provided. He suddenly felt exhausted, emotionally and physically, his body and mind crying out for respite. "I'm really tired," he stated simply, and with that cue, they made their way to bed, leaving the horrors of the day temporarily behind them, finding some solace in their bed, in each other's arms, in fitful bursts of sleep. They didn't pretend, the troubles were still there, still needing to be dealt with, but for now they left them outside, in the arms of other people.


End file.
